


Embers between the Ashes

by Muze



Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, after some struggle all my characters will get a happy ending!, but major canon divergences, inspired by fairytales, king thrushbeard - Freeform, spoilers for the full season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-01-03 17:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muze/pseuds/Muze
Summary: Lady Denham dies and her attorney has a copy of her will. All the money goes to Sanditon and the family members have to seek luck and riches elsewhere. Esther decides to let her parents’ estate and moves into smaller lodgings as she starts teaching language classes to the children of the town. On a certain day, kitchen maid Mary from across the hall gets ill and Esther stands in for her… At the house Lord Babington is renting. Esther hopes he’ll never find out.King Thrushbeard inspired? Yes. I’m a sucker for fairytales





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another Sanditon fic you say? Why yes. And again about Babington and Esther? Yes, indeed. Are you aware that there are a couple of attractive main characters that you barely even mentioned in the last two fics? Well observed, my friend. I’ll put them in (misery) this time, have no fear. Some Sidlotte will be included in later.

Sanditon was the place where dreams were big, promises were broken and money was always running short.

Esther had long since regretted ever setting foot in the damned town. And now she wouldn’t be able to get away anywhere in the near future.

The reason for this was simple: Lady Denham had died.

Clara’s attempt to get pregnant and secure the money whether she or the Denham siblings inherited it, exploded in her face. As she was now pregnant, unmarried and penniless. Edward fled from the impending responsibility without telling either of his remaining two family members. After years of living together and planning a shared future, it was more than a slap in her face. She felt like a medieval Warhammer had collided with her face.

.

.

.

Esther found herself the next morning in the ashes of her old life. Only the memories remained, and they hurt her more than anything. She had officially become a penniless maid nearing spinster territory with no visible prospects.

She tried to run the estate, but it cost more money than it produced. The estate required too many servants. She only needed two weeks to realize that. But she refused to ask for help. She was too proud for that. She knew some would be willing to help, but she’d never been kind enough to those people. She couldn’t accept their help if she wasn’t deserving of it.

During the weeks she was making arrangements for the funeral, she quietly asked her lawyer to search for a tenant. Since Clara had locked herself away in her room she had no one to turn to. No one would help her. She cried at night, for everything she had dreamt of and for everything she was going to lose.

Her plan was to disappear and pretend like she wasn’t in town anymore. If they found out about the way she lived, she would have to face the embarrassment of her acquaintances knowing her but being too embarrassed to invite her over because of her reduced status.

Denhams were proud creatures, they disliked losing face. She would rather go off the grid without giving anyone information about her whereabouts than keeping her relations but losing her dignity.

As far as anyone was concerned, she would be travelling the country in an attempt to find fortune like her brother.

Lady Denham was buried, the money was transferred to the mayor of Sanditon to use for infrastructure, building ventures and events. The money came in handy, since the eldest Parker had been so stupid as to build without paying an insurance. An entire block of newly finished flats had gone up in smoke and the debt had been incredible. The second Parker brother got engaged to some rich London widow. No doubt a strategic replacement for Lady Denham, but with a marriage her money became Parker property, which was without a doubt even better for the greedy brothers, because this time there would be no old independent woman whining about the abuse of her money. Lady Denham's town house and belongings were auctioned, the upbringing from these sales was going to the Denham and Brereton family.

A couple of days after the auction the money was distributed between the remaining family members. Clara took hers and Edwards part because of the baby and left. Esther took her part of the money, and some of her aunt’s items she had chosen to keep instead of auction like a couple of books, a comb, some family jewels which would have earned them a lot of money, and moved into a chamber on the outskirts of town.

She couldn’t see a trace of greenery or the sea from her window, only the drab limestone of the building behind theirs. Her room was naturally cold so she had to keep the fire burning constantly to keep the draft and humidity out. It was still one of the finer and more respectable lodgings, but it was a far cry from the country house. There were no decades old drapes, no fine plush carpets to walk on early in the morning and no servants to make your meals. She ate breakfast food for a long time. She didn’t know how to cook a single thing. She’d bought cooking manuals and female advice books but it took her a month before she managed to make a bearably decent soup.

She’d kept all her clothes and jewellery, her beauty was the only thing she still had which she managed to take with her from her old life.

But the fragile muslins, the delicate lace pieces… She didn’t know how to wash them. So she didn’t dare to wear her prettiest dresses out of fear she’d ruin them on washing day. Besides, her simpler gowns were easier to put back together after washing day. Esther Denham, choosing practicality over vanity, Edward would never believe it.

She took a couple of weeks to process all the past events before looking for employment. She'd lost Edward, who in the end hadn't cared for her at all. She'd lost most of her material comfort. She'd lost all of her acquaintances, not that she was particularly close with any of them since Edward had always managed to keep her away from them with his lies and stories. She'd lost every chance of a happy future. She'd lost her aunt, who had become a sad mean creature because of her wealth, but had nevertheless tried her hardest to get Esther married so that she'd have a good life. She had thought her life up until now had been a boring waiting game in purgatory until she got Lady Denham's money. Turned out things could actually get a whole lot worse, and crying wasn't going to fix anything. If she kept the monthly rent of the estate, and only spent the money from a future job, she might be able to get out of Sanditon and go to another city. There she could get an apartment. The rent was a more than decent amount of money. She would only have to stay in Sanditon for another year or two before she had enough savings. So after three weeks, she focused on finding employment in middle class families instead of the upper crust of Sanditon she used to belong to.

When she advertised in the papers, she presented herself as Miss Emma Denn. The Denhams were an aristocratic family after all, she didn’t want to taint the family name with pitiful teaching adverts in the newspapers. She didn’t feel like her present life was worthy of the Denham name.

She found employment in ten families. They paid her well enough, they were gracious, they were kind and they supplied her with a steady amount of tea and biscuits during the teaching sessions. All by all her life was good.

She worked about five hours every day except on Sundays.

It was true that she didn’t have a social life. Every time she walked through Sanditon, she kept her head down out of fear of someone recognizing her. She talked to no one except her employers and their children, and the girl from across the hall who was exceedingly kind and patient when explaining her how all the laundry equipment worked in the basement.

It started to annoy her that her life was contained within the 150 square foot of her chambers. She didn’t expect to make friends, but she ached to go on walks by herself. Most days she wanted to curl up in her big fauteuil with a blanket wrapped around her while throwing a pity party for herself, but sometimes she wanted to walk through the woods, far away from constricting walls and the dusty air.

On a cold October morning as she was walking towards the house of the Selfridge family, a gust of autumn wind blew her cap off of her head. Her bright red hair was caught by the autumn sun and reflected its yellow rays. She’d never encountered anyone with her particular shade of red hair.

Neither had her acquaintances.

It was one of the things which made her so hesitant to go outside.

A busy Lord Babington was on his way to meet Sidney Parker to discuss a business deal when he noticed the flaming red hair out of the corner of his eye.

Miss Denham.

He’d thought she’d left after the regatta. He’d seen her there, a week after the funeral, outfit all black. He had done his best to avoid her like the plague, though his instincts still told him to go straight to her. But she’d told him in the clearest of terms that she didn’t want him, so he wouldn’t bother her anymore.

She wore a dark red coat now, and underneath it a simple dress. Her hair was up in the simplest of buns. She looked so frail and distraught.

After all the heartache she’d caused him, and after all the scandal surrounding her brother and niece, he wondered whether she’d done him a favour by refusing him. He knew there were those who would call her a tainted price at best, and ruined if they were being particularly nasty, but he couldn’t stop his heart from wanting to run towards her and asking her about her problems.

She looked so much prettier with a smile.

She looked his way in the same manner a deer looked into the eyes of the hunter with the dawning realisation that it had been caught.

She pulled her hood over her head and disappeared into the crowd.

He wondered who she did deign worthy of her greeting.

.

.

.

A spicy odour drifted from underneath the door of Esther Denham’s room that night.

Beside the stove stood a pot with a tacky black mixture of black walnut hull powder combined with sage, water and oil.

Beside the door stood a bucket with a faint black stain and some drops of water still in it.

On the couch sat Esther Denham, her hair now a brown shade with only the faintest auburn hue. She was free to move, but it had cost her the part of her look she loved the most.


	2. Chapter 2

‘Oh, excuse me Miss… oh, it’s you!’ Helpful Mary from across the hall passed her by with arms full of freshly dried linen.

‘I didn’t recognize you! You changed your hair?’

‘I did.’

‘But why Miss? It was such a lovely shade. Very unique. That brown colour won’t come out easily.’

A mean retort formed itself on the tip of her tongue, it came with a natural effortlessness.

But the woman had been nothing but kind.

But so had Mrs.Parker, the youngest Mr. Parker and Lord Babington. All had been kind, and she had spit on all of their kindness by being haughty and mean.

But this woman she actually owed some niceness.

‘I’m… Trying to run away from my past. I hoped this would help make me stand out a bit less.’

‘Well, it worked on me. It’s awful you had to go through whatever you went through Miss Denn, but I believe the dye should do the trick, at least from far away. Your face still looks the same. I figure bangs would do a lot, but ‘t would be a shame to hide a face like yours.’

‘Oh, thank you. But you have a pretty face too. Why do you wear bangs, Miss Smith?’

‘I don’t like my face all too much… Oh, dear, what is it. You look so sad.’

‘I- I quite miss my hair, I’m still not used to the change’, Esther said while twirling a lock around her fingers. Tears still threatened to spill from her eyes.

‘Naw Miss, it’s still a very pretty auburn. Maybe it will become lighter by walking in the sun? At least it still has a pretty red sheen and the colour suits your complexion as well. It makes the red of your lips and the white of your skin stand out more.’

‘You’re too kind, Miss Smith.’

‘Hush, it’s fine. How has the laundry been going?’

‘Good. I even managed to clean one of my more delicate muslins this week. Maybe I’ll be bold enough to start cleaning lace next week. I also succeeded in preparing meat three days in a row!’

‘I don’t know where you came from that you didn’t know how to do any of it, Miss. But I’m very proud of how fast you’re learning. It took me a good five years before I could make meals like my mother.’

‘Sometimes I feel like I come from another planet, there’s so much I don’t know.’

‘All in good time, Miss Denn.’

‘Yes, I do hope so. Have a good day, Miss Smith.’

Miss Smith turned away sneezing. ‘Yes. As do you.’

.

.

.

She left the building without a cap, hood or hat and without fear. The wind tugged on her loose hair.

She’d lost her family and fortune but she was free.

Dying her hair felt like a literal break with her past.

She moved through the town unbothered and allowed the cool wind to ruffle her hair.

She allowed her simple brown skirt to get muddy on the dirt road out of town towards the woods.

She allowed herself to delight in kicking up the fallen leaves. Autumn had come quickly after the funeral and the departure of Miss Heywood.

Not only her personal world was dying, but the world as an entirety seemed to crumble to orange and brown dust now that two of Sanditon’s stubborn women had left.

She departed from the clear walking path and ventured through the moss and fallen leaves, over branches, towards the waterfall which she knew lay hidden somewhere in the distance. The place had seemed so magical in late July. As she sank down on a rock, she remembered the bright blue of the flowers which had grown around it, as she looked up and gazed at the blue sky she remembered the lush thick ceiling of green leaves which had been there no three months prior. The birds were still present, but soon enough their nests would be exposed to the harsh autumn cold.

At least the lucky things could fly away from all the cold and cruel conditions in Sanditon.

Her eyes slipped shut.

If only she could fly away.

The first tear slipped through the cracks of her dark eyelashes.

The memory of the first time she’d visited the waterfall was still as bright and vivid as it had been the first day.

Lord Babington had been a steady presence in her head since he told her he wouldn’t be discouraged by her lack of enthusiasm. And her remorse over her rejection of his proposal had been so big it had made her sick with guilt for almost a week.

His hurt expression was still etched into her memory.

Whenever she thought of him in the dark of the night, and of everything he’d offered her, she thought of that exact expression. It was usually enough to convince her that she wasn’t worth whatever he offered her. She’d hurt him too much.

Why should he waste his time on an ungrateful brat who did nothing but either ignore him or treat him cruelly? There hadn’t been a day she didn’t regret turning him down.

She hated herself for refusing an honest and kind man who she may have had a soft spot for.

Then she cursed herself for sacrificing a wealthy comfortable life with a kind man for Edward, the most undeserving selfish dandy in the world.

But with her aunt on her deathbed and her niece pregnant, she hadn’t seen a lot of anyone, least of all Lord Babington. There was no moment to apologize. Besides, everyone would assume that her apologies were caused by her change of fortune, instead of change of mind.

Everyone only ever thought of money.

Damn the money.

And damn the people.

Why did it have to be him, of all people, who recognized her in the street, lowered to the position of a mere peasant?

Oh how he must have laughed, to see the woman who spurned him no three months ago reduced to relative poverty.

Esther allowed herself a couple more minutes of pity, before she scolded herself for thinking poorly of Lord Babington. Then she wiped her tears and returned home.

No use in crying, it was just a lot of wasted energy.

Her tears wouldn’t change anything.


	3. Chapter 3

A woodland nymph.

Or perhaps a lost fairy.

She meandered through the woods, floating over broken twigs and twisting away from protruding branches.

Her auburn hair was alight with fire in the afternoon light.

Inside his chest cavity, he could still feel his heart bleeding.

The wounds Miss Denham had left were still as fresh as they were when she refused him.

It appeared both he and Sidney had ended up chasing impossible dreams.

In London they could’ve had their pick. They were wealthy and handsome enough, not that the second one was needed if one possessed enough of the first. Yet it was in the godforsaken corner of England called Sanditon both had lost their heart to the first woman they set their eyes on.

Maybe Esther Denham had been the right woman at the right time. He was well on his way towards the wrong side of five and thirty and had spent his twenties chasing easy preys. He need a wife, he needed offspring, and he needed someone intelligent and cultured enough so he wouldn’t tire of them. After years in the presence of the prince regent, with friends who had up to three mistresses each, he’d had enough of the easy smiles and the women who played games. He’d chased his fair share of women, but they’d chased him just as well. They knew who he was, they knew his worth, and they knew his friends, and they’d wanted him for those exact reasons. To be rebuffed despite it all, had piqued his interest.

And Sidney, dear Sidney, who he’d seen turn into a cruel shell of a man after Eliza refused him and married another, had suddenly bloomed again; making an effort for his ward, helping his brother, being kind. It was only after Miss Heywood left, that Sidney, during an evening when he got incredibly drunk, told him everything. All the conversations, all the fights, the naked swimming, the kiss. But despite of the mess their interactions had been, they’d both fallen in love by the end. Having to give her up for a richer bride, having to do to Miss Heywood what Eliza had done to him… it broke his friend’s recently healed heart again.

What a mess love was.

One could know it was by the thousands of plays and books and poems dedicated to heartache, and still wind up surprised when one experienced it.

And though he’d come to the woods to think and to – hopefully – walk off the terrible hangover from another night of drinking away said heartache with Sidney, he found himself chasing the elf.

Why he followed her while his heart was still most definitely in the possession of another, he didn’t know.

Or perhaps, his heart knew before his eyes.

Because when the nymph arrived at the waterfall, she fell down on a rock.

Her slim fingers traced the rough edges as her gaze turned skyward.

And lo and behold.

Hers was not a face he could forget.

For there, with hair the colour of red wood, was Esther Denham, dressed in drab brown dress.

She appeared lost in thought.

The wind whispered in the leaves.

Miss Denham felt it too as it brushed her cheeks, or so it appeared, for her thick dark lashes fluttered.

Her eyes shut.

And in that holy moment, the woodland spirit started crying.

He wished to rush in and take her lithe form in his arms.

He could feel his arms tingling with the desire to hold her. In front of his eyes he could see a vision taking form in which he carried her straight towards his house where he could hold her and protect her from whatever was troubling her.

Yet, the moment felt too sacred.

He couldn’t just step in.

_You have no right. She doesn’t want you._

And so he watched.

She’d been so vibrant.

From her hair to her spunk.

But all vibrancy seemed to leave her.

Gone were the fiery locks.

Gone seemed her pride.

Gone were the colours from her clothes.

Gone was her hard cool exterior.

_Without pretence._

She’d always been honest, she’d never played games, but he’d only seen her so vulnerable once before.

Was she crying because of her brother again?

Or perhaps her aunt?

Or a reason unknown to him?

His decency finally caught up with him.

_You shouldn’t be seeing this. Leave. _

Suddenly quite sober, he turned away and left the woods.

It was only late at night, when sleep evaded him, a question formed itself in his head.

_Why was she at the spot he’d shown her? What had driven her there to cry?_

He decided, one way or another, he would find out why Esther Denham was still living around Sanditon despite that she’d informed people she’d left. And he would find out how she was.

Discreetly of course. Because one thing was clear: Esther Denham, for God knows whatever reason, had no wish to be found.


	4. Chapter 4

‘Ah, Miss Denn. Precisely on time as always, come in.’

Esther entered the Lauder House. As was usual, the maid brought her to the study room of the children, in which the two children were both sitting at a small piano their mother leaned over them to show them the keys.

‘Mrs. Lauder, it’s Miss Denn.’

Mrs. Lauder was dressed impeccably today. She was wearing a white and blue dress, very similar to one Esther had laying around in the back of her closet.

The woman turned around with a smile.

‘Ah, perfect. We are quite done with the piano for today. Today’s class is French right?’

‘We did French two days ago. We’ll quickly freshen up their knowledge but the main focus is Italian today.’

‘Oh, I must have switched it up. Well, it doesn’t really matter. We held a dinner party two days ago and some of our friends were quite shocked by their level of French. It’s astounding how much their knowledge has grown the past two months, Miss Denn. I can’t thank you enough.’

‘Just doing my job, but I take pride in it.’

Not so worthless after all.

‘Alright, goodbye my darling. And remember, be good!’

The mother left the room after pressing a kiss on the heads of her children.

Esther went to sit down at the large table and took out her big picture books and Italian language books.

After repeating the learned words and verbs from two days prior, which the children remembered with great accuracy, she opened the picture book and showed them a detailed tearoom.

‘Now I want you to identify as many objects as you can on this picture. There are two dictionaries on the table, look up the things you have found in the drawing and pronounce the words in Italian.’

Having to look them up and use them immediately usually helped the speed at which the children processed their vocabulary. The drawing was full with everyday items like teacups, tables, chairs, windows and people. They were practical words, hopefully they would think of the words whenever they saw the items in real life.

After analysing the picture, she let them make a list of the words and their translations. Then she took away the dictionaries and their written lists.

‘Now show me all the items from the drawing in this room. And show me all the items you’ve seen in pictures I previously showed you. I want to hear you name all the items.’

The children hopped off their chairs and ran towards the first items of which they remembered the translations.

‘A book! Un libro.’

‘Very well. Do you happen to know the French word for it as well, Sarah?’

‘Livre?’

‘Yes. C’était un ou une livre?’

The little blonde girl bit her cheek.

‘Un livre?’

‘Très bien, mademoiselle.’

The girl beamed at her.

Silly creatures, and so predictable. They always went for the items of which they remembered the words best… Which meant that by the time they were forced to show items of which they didn’t know the words, they had completely forgotten them.

After ten minutes of joyfully skipping from item to item, things were starting to become difficult.

‘Yes, a painting. What was the French word again?’

‘P… I don’t know Miss Denn!’ cried the little boy.

‘It had something to do with paint. Just like English. Paint-ing. The word is even similar to the English p… Pe…’

‘Painture?’

‘Peinture. Now, French and Italian are quite similar. Think about it. How could you change peinture into an Italian sounding version?’

‘Peinturi?’

‘No.’

‘Peintura.’

‘Almost. There’s something wrong with the first part of the word.’

‘Oh, pittura!’ cried the girl.

‘Yes indeed. Pittura.’

She called the children to the table again for some verb exercises.

‘Now make the next few exercises. I’ll give you a couple of minutes.’

Esther walked around the room, staring out of the window and reading the titles of the books in the bookcase.

The sound of opening and closing doors came from behind the pair of closed doors leading into the main drawing room of the house.

Esther hushed the children who’d gotten up at the sound.

‘So, why isn’t Mr. Parker coming?’

‘He’s not feeling all too well right now.’

_Lord Babington._

‘Oh, nothing too bad I hope?’

Esther pulled her eyebrows up at the children who were listening in as well. With one quick finger pointing towards their assignment, she managed to get them to obey again.

‘Same as always I’m afraid. She’s quite demanding. She wants to decide on everything. And she always gets her way since she’s the wealthiest party.’

_Serves him right for marrying for money._

‘He never should’ve asked her that second time. I know he loved her before, but if she didn’t love him enough the first time, who’s to say they will end up happy now?’ Mrs. Lauder asked.

‘I don’t know, I don’t know Mrs. Lauder. He’s intent on marrying her. The only thing I can do is offer him my support and friendship. Nothing is worse than going through heartache alone. The road to matrimony can be quite miserable.’

She’d done that.

She’d done that to him.

‘I just don’t get why it has to be her. This summer, Sanditon was full of beautiful single girls. Why did he have to pick up that woman in London?’

‘I’m afraid he had little choice in the matter, after those buildings burned down.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ll tell you, but only because I know I can trust you. Tom parker has been investing a lot of money in this town. Between all the bills coming in he’d forgotten to invest in one more thing… Insurances for the constructions.’

‘Oh dear.’

So he hadn’t gotten engaged for money, he’d gotten engaged to save his failure of a brother.

No matter how deplorable Tom Parker was, Sidney Parker’s single act of selflessness spoke of more family love than everything her own family had done for each other combined.

She tried to imagine Edward or Lady Denham willingly spending their money on another family member, or Clara marrying to help the family along.

Ridiculous.

She herself had been the only person genuinely considering to marry to help their family out of poverty. Truth be told, had Lord Babington been ugly and unpleasant she wouldn’t have considered his proposal at all, but it was still more than her cousin and stepbrother had done.

‘Miss, I have a question.’

She detached herself from her position near the doors quite unwillingly.

She helped the boy along so he could continue, and instantly drifted back towards the door.

‘I’m not going to London until he’s in a better place.’

‘So you’re potentially staying the Winter?’

‘Yes, I’ve rented a house somewhere on – Street.’

‘Won’t the Prince Regent miss you?’

‘His Highness has plenty of friends. I won’t flatter myself with thinking I’m unmissable. Perhaps I’ll go visit him a couple of times, to stay in his graces, but I’m needed here.’

Such loyalty, such love. She was never worthy of having such a man care for her. Yet he’d offered her, and she had stuck her nose up in the air and turned away from all that generosity, all that loyalty, all that love… She’d been a proper fool.

‘But is there no one else in London, or elsewhere?’

‘I have some cousins. Some in the military, some belonging to the clergy, one is married. So I don’t see a lot of them. I don’t have any siblings either, so mostly, it’s just me in an empty house.’

A pang shot through her heart.

She’d only spent two weeks alone in her large house.

Already within the first two days the walls had been closing in on her. Nothing had made her feel as alone as living in a big empty house.

She still felt incredibly lonely now, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

Yet, she missed having someone to speak to and have breakfast with.

She was barely getting through every day. She couldn’t begin to imagine being alone every single day for years on end.

But Lord Babington had friends. He moved around. He stayed over with his friends. And as a man, he could entertain a mistress. He didn’t have to be as alone as her.

‘Perhaps you could find someone?’

How she wished she could be inside that room to see his response.

‘We’ve covered this.’

‘Well, it may help you know… To make it go away… She’s gone.’

‘Not to me. Not to my heart. It was the first time… She was… Extraordinary.’

‘She was an awful creature, as were the rest of her family. Good riddance I’d say, not the old woman, but those younger ones, I don’t mind them being gone. Never understood what you saw in her. Pretty enough but that was it’, she recognized the voice of the drunken friend; Crowe.

It was about her?

They wanted him to move on. They wanted him to be happy with another woman.

She couldn’t blame them.

‘But enough talk of me, please. How are your children.’

‘They’re doing great’, Mr. Lauder laughed.

‘Miss Denn, we’re done.’

‘Oh yes.’

Esther collected their papers and her books.

She felt a growing need to leave. Nervously putting her books in her bag, she heard the conversation continue.

‘They’re in the study just next door. Their language teacher must almost be done with them for the day. She’s marvellous. The progress she’s made with them in the past few months is astounding. She’s working on their French and has started with teaching them Italian.’

‘Children, my time is up. Tell your parents I’ll be back next week. Try practicing by naming objects in every room you enter alright. If you forget, take a look at your papers.’

‘Perhaps they could give you a little demonstration’, Mrs. Lauder said.

‘Goodbye!’ Esther said as she sprinted out of the room. Just as she closed the door behind her she heard the mother open the other set of doors.

‘She’s just left mama. Look, these are the words we learned today.’

She let out a breath of relief before her eye fell on the door beside her.

Anyone could exit it, she wasn’t safe just yet.

Wasting no time she descended the stairs.

When Lord Babington left the room to relieve himself; he could only faintly discern the sound of the front door closing.


	5. Chapter 5

Sidney Parker was no stranger to heartache.

One would think he’d grow used to it. Alas, it hurt just as much as the last time, only now there was the additional feeling of self-hatred because he had chosen to give up his happiness, and he’d broken Charlotte’s heart in doing so. In a twisted way, he belonged with Mrs. Campion. They’d both broken hearts for the sake of money.

_Now one could ask whether he’d had a real choice to begin with._ It was either his happiness, or his brother in debtors prison while his wife and children would be shun from society and left penniless. And even in prison, Arthur and Sidney would have to pay the prize.

The only balm to his injury was the knowledge that he’d saved his family with his sacrifice. Charlotte had always told him he should do more for his family, he doubted she’d expected what doing so would cost him and her. She’d made him care for his family again, if it wasn’t for her, he would’ve left for London months ago. He wouldn’t be stuck in a loveless engagement like he was now. Yet, if Charlotte hadn’t entered his life… There would have been no one he wished to get engaged with to start off with. She’d opened his heart again. It was astounding how much a girl almost ten years his junior had managed to bring about so much change in him in just a couple of months.

She was too good for Sanditon. She’d been trusting and open with everyone, and she’d been lied to and hurt at every twist and turn. She’d helped Tom, supported Georgiana, been kind to the workers and had even willingly given her heart to him who had snarked and barked at her at every given opportunity. He didn’t deserve her, and she certainly didn’t deserve the treatment she received. In a way, it was a good thing she’d gotten away from the cursed town. If she and Sidney had married, she would have been just another soul affected by Tom’s poor decisions. She deserved all the happiness in the world, hopefully, one day, a man truly worthy of her would come along. She had a generous heart and loving nature. She would be able to love again.

As for himself, he was stuck. He was forever bound to Tom, and thus to Sanditon. He felt restless in the little sandy town. Not only was he unable to run away from his problems, he also didn’t get the time to process his feelings. The wedding had to be prepared.

But there was a comfort to be taken in the fact that he wasn’t alone. Every night, there was a bottle, a pack of cards and Crowe and Babington.

As a veteran, he knew he should be the one guiding Babington through his first experience with heartache. The man had always been there for him, even when he was the poorest of company. Sometimes Sidney wondered why the ever friendly Lord decided it would be a good idea to become friends with him and Crowe. He was ill tempered and moody at the best of times, and Crowe was… Crowe.

Yet, as heartache wrecked his heart again, he wasn’t able to be the selfless support he should. Instead, they both used each other and booze – steadily supplied by Crowe – as a crutch, as they suffered through the same emotion in the knowledge the other understood them.

Babington showed all the tell-tale signs of heartache. He couldn’t bear to hear her name, yet wished to hear everything about her. At random points in the evening his expression would fade and his eyes would grow distant as an unpleasant reminder of her popped up in his head. His laugh wasn’t aloud anymore and was reduced to the upward pull of a corner of his mouth. Sidney knew. It was as if, every time he tried to laugh, his heart was trying to tell him: “how dare you laugh while I am bleeding?”.

Though it was a mystery to him how his friend could suffer a heartache so profound. As far as he knew, he hadn’t seen Miss Denham that much. Nor could he understand why Miss Denham, of all people, had managed to attract him so much. Everyone could see Charlotte was kind, warm, smart and sweet natured. He’d known Esther ever since Lady Denham and Tom had started working together and she’d always been in a _mood_.

When they moved about in the circles of the Prince Regent, the three of them had often chased ladies for either pleasure or to have some fun conversation and innocent flirting at a ball. Babington, with all his money, had always managed to attract girls. They practically flung themselves at him. They were spontaneous, pretty, talkative and overall joyful. They were easy company, even if they were somewhat shallow, uncultured and silly. And they were definitely in it for the money. Then again, everyone in those circles was obsessed with money. Crowe always managed to get the most gorgeous women. Married women, maidens, prostitutes. They were smart like him. Sidney, Sidney managed to attract women by ignoring them because apparently by being unavailable, they wanted him more. And so, if he was feeling up to it, he entertained them for the evening, and then discreetly never talked of it again, another thing which commended him in their eyes.

Apparently, just like Sidney had fallen for someone open, trusting, selfless and kind, after he’d become closed off, guarded, selfish and bitter… Babington had moved on from the past and started looking for someone more serious and cultured. Two things he couldn’t deny Miss Denham to be. Though he had a harder time believing all the other merits Babington attributed to her. He was convinced she didn’t care for his money, and considered her the most beautiful woman in the world, and apparently a very funny and honest one at that.

Sidney couldn’t help but decide that after years of friendship with a hedonistic prince, a haughty heir who covered up old wounds with jokes and drinks each day, and a moody bastard, it was no wonder that Lord Babington had developed a strange taste in women as well.

‘You’ve been staring out of that window for the better part of the past ten minutes. Your pen hasn’t even touched that piece of paper, James. I thought you had to write an important letter?’

‘I believe I’ve seen her, Sidney.’

‘Who?’

‘Miss Denham.’

‘What? Now?’ Sidney rose and made to move towards the window.

‘No, not now. A few weeks ago on the street. I don’t understand how she’d come to be there or why, but I know it would be hard to mistake that shade of copper.’

‘Babs, I really appreciate that you’ve decided to stay for my sake. I can’t thank you enough for the friendship and support you’ve offered me, but perhaps a change of scenery would do you good. Running away helped me flee from my ghosts.’

‘Those ghosts will only convince me to stay. Is it bad that I still long for only the smallest part of her, even going as far as allowing her to haunt me?’

‘Bad for you yes, but it’s definitely understandable. What I’d give to hear just one thing from… To know she’s doing well… Anything… But I’ve lost all right to contact her.’

‘Will it pass?’

‘Perhaps. But probably not anytime soon.’

Babington sighed and looked back

‘I know it hurts, but I’ll keep on saying it. Knowing she didn’t want me, helped me. My heart didn’t stop hurting, but I knew that even if I’d get to interact with her again, I knew she would still choose someone else to marry. The worst thing about my heartache this time, is to know that if I’d reach out, there would be someone holding out their hand. She rejected you, for may the Lord knows what reason, but the case still stands. If she truly was here, that wouldn’t change a thing. She said no.’

‘I know… And yet… I can’t help but feel that there’s more to it.’

‘More to you seeing her ghost?’

‘More to her refusal.’

‘You can keep on analysing every interaction you’ve had with her to find new insights, but it won’t do you any good. I know you can’t help yourself, but it’ll only hurt you. Come, eat with me tonight. Let’s try not to think of them for the remainder of the evening.’

‘Alright. But I’ll have to tell my staff though.’

‘Very well. Maybe you can write your letter, and I’ll send a message?’

‘Oh, that won’t be necessary. The letter isn’t coming along anyway.’

He pointedly put the quill back down.

‘I’ll write it another time. I’ll go tell them myself, I need some fresh air anyway. When do you want to have dinner?’

‘Seven?’

‘Very well.’

If he, after telling his staff, then went to the woods in the hopes of seeing a certain ghost and was disappointed by there not being one, Sidney didn’t have to know.

Said ghost had actually returned from the woods not half an hour before Lord Babington walked towards it.

Esther Denham had been on the way towards her room when Mary Smith asked her to stand in for her that evening and Esther agreed, feeling obliged to after the woman had done so much for her the past few months. Unsure how she, someone who’d cut her first vegetable three months ago, would fare in a kitchen, she’d been pacing ever since until the knock on her door followed by the announcement that Mary’s employer wouldn’t be needing the kitchen staff that night.


	6. Chapter 6

‘Miss Denn?’

Esther wiped away her tears and threw an irritated look at the door, willing it out of existence.

Another knock on the door finally got Esther out of bed and putting on her morning coat.

_This better be good, the only part of my life that isn’t completely awful is my rest._

‘Yes?’

She immediately regretted her annoyed smile when she saw the pale face of Miss Smith. She was all bundled up in a heavy winter dress with a big scarf wrapped around her, yet she was shaking.

‘I’m sorry for rousing you, Miss Denn. I wouldn’t if I could avoid it… I don’t have many acquaintances, and I have none who don’t have the same job as me except you. I’m afraid I can’t go to work today. Would- Would you be able to go in my stead? I know you have no experience and a job of your own as well, so I would understand if you declined. It’s just that I’m afraid to lose my job. You can have the money I’m supposed to get for working. I don’t mind. It’s just that I really need to keep my job. I’ve been unemployed for two months before I got this job and life’s been hard. I really need it.’

Always the money. Why did everything in Sanditon always revolve around money?

‘You can keep the money. I have more of it than you do. You’ve been kind to me, I’ll help you. I’m indebted to you.’

‘Oh no, I only showed you how to do a couple of things.’

Why did kind people keep on showing her generosity without wishing to see it returned?

Perhaps, something had failed in her upbringing. She fully expected that when she offered someone something, they’d take it without thinking of returning the favour. At the same time she knew that if someone did something for her, she could expect to be called upon to return the favour at some point in the future.

How terribly Christian of them. No wonder kind people got taken advantage of. No good ever came of being too kind. Miss Heywood, Lord Babington, Miss Smith, all kind, and all of them not getting their kindness repaid.

‘I think your advice was of vital importance to me, and your job is of vital importance to you. There, we help each other. Deliver me the address and the hour when I have to be there. I can’t promise I’ll be good at it though.’

‘Thank you so much Miss Denn!’

‘Go back to your rooms, Miss Smith, I don’t wish for you to develop a cold as well. There’s a draft in the hallway.’

‘I’ll give you the time and place in an hour.’

‘Very well.’

She closed the door and put water on the stove.

Tea. As strong as she could get it. Dainty dull tea be damned.

Perhaps the work could provide some distraction to her. Perhaps it would make her so tired she would fall into a heavy dreamless sleep. Oh blissful dreamless nothing, how much she longed for it.

There seemed to be no in between, she either had nightmares about Edward or dreams about Lord Babington, and both made her cry.

Tonight it had been Lord Babington who’d visited her. She couldn’t remember much of it. It had only been a walk, they hadn’t said anything. The dream had started at the beach. They’d started walking towards the woods just like they had months ago. Only they kept walking, past the waterfall. An endless walk, yet she didn’t grow tired. They walked until they reached the mountainous Scotland, they walked past castles and lochs, they walked through Italian gardens and Swiss alps, all the while saying nothing. He just smiled at her. At first she’d been confused. She was thinking about Sanditon, Edward, her aunt and the future. Yet as they kept on walking, all those thoughts faded to the background. They didn’t matter anymore. Her heart lightened with every step she took. She wasn’t afraid of walking anymore. She wasn’t afraid of the road ahead. Walking beside him had felt so comfortable.

Why did he haunt her so? It was futile, she would never see him again.

Since Lady Denham’s burial, Edward’s presence in her mind had steadily decreased.

She could still hear him whispering in her ear from time to time.

Comments he would make about the poor, sarcastic commentary about the mistakes the children she taught, disgusted remarks about how much her style had suffered because of her incapability to wear her pretty dresses. But the voice became less audible throughout time.

She hadn’t suddenly become a nice person. She was still annoyed by the children, and she didn’t like her dresses herself. But now, when she saw a labourer, she thought of Miss Smith, and how she had to work each day just to be able to afford food. Edward and her had always complained about not having money, yet they’d never done something to get it. These people _worked_ for it. And when she heard someone making crass remarks, her first thought was still “oh hush, you uneducated oaf.” But then she thought of that man returning to a one room house filled with children and a wife, not being able to afford any kind of amusement except for the amusement he tried to see in life.

And when she looked in the mirror, detesting her look again, she just asked herself for what occasion she’d wear her white coat or her black ball gown.

She was startled from her reverie by the sound of boiling water in the pot. She made her breakfast and tea and returned to the couch.

Why did Babington occupy her mind more and more, with every decrease of Edward’s presence.

Was her heart really so fickle, that she transferred her attraction so easily, after years of loyal loving?

She shouldn’t love Edward anymore, and she didn’t. She was still hurt, but the love had quickly turned to anger and loathing. She was more sad for all the time she’d wasted loving him while she should have known – while everyone told her – that loving Edward was a big mistake.

But why that man? Why and how had he gotten under her skin?

Of course, she didn’t mean to look for answers. Yet the question could only cross her mind that often before she came up with theories of her own.

He’d been the only one to never give up on her. When she ignored men, they usually gave up within the week. When she was unkind and snarky, they took the hint. He didn’t.

Women were aught to show more affection than they felt to procure themselves a husband. She actively tried to dissuade a rich bachelor from pursuing her.

He kept on offering kindness, and never demanded anything in return. She didn’t have to beg for attention like she did for Edward.

He was open and trusting, while everyone else was closed off.

He didn’t care about her lack of money, while everyone was obsessively looking for more of it.

He was loyal to his friends, while in Sanditon, people couldn’t even stay loyal to their family.

And he made her laugh, while everyone else was desperately trying to convince her there was not a single good or happy thing about life. There was nothing to laugh about, yet he’d made her laugh. She’d heard enough gossip about him once news hit town that Sidney Parker would take some of his London friends with him to Sanditon. News about a wealthy bachelor, befriended with the Prince Regent, had quickly spread. A bachelor, pleasant but enjoying all the pleasant stuff in life, not one to take seriously, not too bright.

How odd, she considered it now. He laughed easily, and rarely took offence, but she could never honestly call him shallow or stupid. 

“I’ve been starting to think my life has been something of a pretence.”

He was different. So, so different. Perhaps her heart had decided that after two decades, it’d had enough of bad people, and immediately let in the one person who was unlike the others.

But it was useless to develop an attachment now. Cinderella was just a silly fairytale, there’d be no rich hero who’d pick her up from between the cinders.

The day passed quickly. December was just around the corner and the hours of light were quite limited. It would be her first Christmas without a party and presents.

Feeling drab, she put on a teal dress she felt pretty in. She didn’t know whether she would have to make food as well as do the dishes so she made sure the dress didn’t have sleeves past her elbows.

She didn’t feel ready to wash grease and food stains off her dresses.

She’d never visited the house she had to be at before. She would be working for someone she didn’t know, which comforted her at least in some measure.

‘Who are you?’ a shrill voice commanded to know the second she entered the kitchen.

‘I’m Es- Emma Denn. I’m replacing Miss Smith because she has taken ill.’

‘She’s letting others do her work?’

‘She isn’t capable of it right now. I’m offering my pair of hands in her stead. Now do you want me or not?’

‘What experience you have?’

‘With what?’

‘The usual. Where have you worked before?’

‘I work as a language teacher.’

A couple of faces looked impressed, but most shook their heads.

‘No experience? It’s a good thing it’s just the master and a couple of his friends. I hope he won’t throw any parties before Smith is back. Fine, I’ll tolerate it for now. To the bench, you’ve got a lot of carrots and celery to get through.’

It appeared Esther would have a peaceful evening slicing vegetables. She wasn’t even allowed to go near the fire the two cooks were standing at, drinking their way through two bottles of ale before the first course had even been served.

All the other servants merrily chatted along, sharing stories of the previous night and exchanging jokes. Teaching was the superior job, but sitting here between the other servants, it struck her how lonely that job was compared to this one.

The second the first course went out, the kitchen went in overdrive. Esther was pulled from her table and had to fetch this, then drain the vegetables there, then clean the countertop as the next course was being prepared and plated. It had to go quick, because it had to be served hot.

It was astounding to see. This was a dinner for no more than six people. With horror she realized what kind of war scene an entire buffet for over fifteen people would cause in the kitchens.

She’d never look at a buffet the same way.

‘You, girl. Take up the soup.’

‘Why me?’

The old woman raised her eyebrows in a threatening way.

‘I don’t think you know how it goes around here. I say something and it happens. Be careful or your friend won’t have to come back. Now take it up. It’s not like you have to present it, the butler will serve it to the guests. You aren’t dressed.’

Esther swallowed the offense. That woman!

‘Yes’, she said with sweet venom in her voice as she took the plate with the casserole of soup upstairs. The stairs were slim and her dress a bit too long. She praised her guardian angel for not tripping and falling to her death with a casserole of soup.

The hall looked entirely different to the rooms which were only frequented by the servants. It also looked decidedly new. A rental?

The old woman had also forgotten to tell her where she should take the soup _to_. She heard a laugh from somewhere around the corner and followed it.

‘Babs come on, what’s more fun than spending the season in London? You don’t plan on going up and down, do you? You have to be in the House of Lords by the middle of January. Let’s just spend Christmas there as well.’

Esther froze.

_Babs_.

‘Ah, that’ll be the soup? Perfect.’ An impeccably dressed senior male servant took the tray from her with a smile.

‘Clean off their plates’, he hissed towards a younger servant. The boy nodded and entered the room.

Esther smiled back and returned to the kitchen as fast as she could without running.

Lord Babington was here? Why was he everywhere she went? Was this his house?

How mortifying. She was working for the man she’d rejected. He couldn’t find out. She’d die of embarrassment.

‘Delivered?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes ma’am’, the old crow said.

‘Yes, that’, Esther huffed as she picked up her work again.

She left as soon as she could, head down towards the street until she’d turned a corner.

Coming home, she decided to check in on Miss Smith. She didn’t answer when she knocked on the door, so she decided to breach privacy and try to open it. It gave immediately. Quite unsafe to leave the door unlocked.

The figure in the bed could be described as anything but recovering. Her eyelashes fluttered.

‘Oh.. Miss Denn. Did everything go well?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m sure I will manage to go tomorrow. Thank you. So. Much.’

‘That’s it, I’m getting a doctor.’

It would cost her a day’s earnings, but it didn’t matter.

‘No, I can’t afford it.’

‘You’re not paying’, Esther decided as she left again.

She couldn’t believe that just a couple of months earlier, she’d considered herself poor because she couldn’t live a lavish life in Italy, meanwhile another woman couldn’t even afford a doctor. It’s not like the woman had any joy or leisure in her life. How was it possible that Esther felt like life on earth had become a living hell while she had spacious rooms, a burning fire, food and free time while this woman was almost certainly facing death yet she still wasn’t complaining. 

She wasn’t grateful for her life, it could have been so much more comfortable if only her aunt hadn’t treated them so unfairly. But she didn’t pity herself as much as she did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, a couple of fun historical notes:
> 
> \- cooks did get free unlimited refreshments because they worked so close to the fire  
\- social stratification amongst the staff was very real and Esther could have probably gotten fired for her big mouth  
\- servants' stairs were very dangerous because they were narrow and oftentimes unequally spaced, which was very bad for balance. The stairs were often old, and the wear of age often made the problem worse. Those stairs also weren't regulated until the late victorian era. There were many accounts of servants falling to their deaths. Those stairs were already dangerous and they had to run on them with plates and laundry, so they couldn't even use their hands to protect themselves as they fell. Servants were quite used to them, but Esther would have definitely noticed and struggled.  
\- "The season" is a tricky term, it often coincided with the start of parliament. Very shortly before the 19th century, around 1780, it started somewhere around February, but around 1810 it started around Christmas/the beginning of January. Many politicians and lords involved in politics already went before it started snowing and stayed there out of convenience.  
\- I never intended for my fic to be long. It was intended as a one shot, and now it's become this. Still I think it'll be resolved in two chapters. It could've been a lot shorter, but I do love typing lenghthy unnecessary descriptions, I'm sorry, I'm self-indulgent.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short one, you'll love the next one I promise! We're nearing the end.

‘She’ll be needing at least three days of rest, and medicine, Miss.’

‘What?’

‘She needs a tonic for- ‘

‘Where can I get it?’

‘I could prescribe it. Any ordinary chemist can make it. It’ll cost money though.’

‘I can pay it, just give it to me.’

‘Alright Miss.’

\---

At least another three days of working in that kitchen. She might not have gone to church in the past few months, but she would never allow anyone to say she didn’t do her Christian duty. She fetched the tonic and combined Miss Smith’s job with her own without complaint. She already looked better after the first day of taking the medicine, which was the fourth day of her illness. However, she was still just as weak the second day she took it. Esther would be condemned to the kitchens for another additional day.

Two kitchen duties had passed and nothing bad happened. On the third day of Esther’s kitchen duties and the second day on which Miss Smith was taking her medicine, the kitchen crew was told that Lord Babington would eat out. Miss Smith seemed to gain in strength. 

The combination of the teaching and kitchen work made her too tired to have any time for herself. The little free time she had, was spent cooking and cleaning in her own home.

By this point she wasn’t even surprised anymore that life could get worse nor did she have any particular feelings about it anymore. It was just life, she didn’t give it another thought.

The only thing she did think about was the meaning of her dreams. The only thing she longed for after a long day, was the sweet relief of sleep. A long blissful dreamless sleep, because her dreams left her cheeks stained with tears and her heart aching every time she woke up.

For months she’d been plagued with nightmares about Edward, as they’d slowly lessened and disappeared, another person had entered them.

Now she dreamt of walks on the beach, ball’s spent dancing in someone’s arms, and cleaning the floors in a certain town house only to be discovered and picked up like Cinderella.

And as her dreams created more food for feelings, the realisation that she’d never be in the situation to meet him as a potential spouse again, hurt her more and more.

The only one who she hadn’t been able to keep at a distance with her cold behaviour.

The only one who’d gotten through the layers of mistrust Edward had instilled upon her about others.

She couldn’t understand it. He was the exact opposite of Edward. How could her taste change so drastically in so short a time?

He wasn’t sportive. He was funny in a completely different way, and he didn’t seem to be as cultured as Edward, though he had to have seen much more plays and art. And then there were his looks. She knew that on an objective level, he wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t Edward. But she didn’t think he was attractive. His hair was too short, his face too round, his fashion style was mediocre at best, but for some reason her stupid traitorous heart picked up speed whenever she thought of it. She couldn’t understand herself.

_With his stupid ugly hideous cape. Who does he think he is, some medieval knight?_

But it didn’t matter how often she told herself all the reasons why it couldn’t be, her heart still did the stupid thing. Why did her heart always pick the unavailable men?

Luckily, entering his house as a servant each night was the best kind of reality check, nothing could remind her more of how different the worlds they lived in were.

‘Miss Smith, how are you today?’

‘Miss Denn, come in. I’m all right, I could go work tonight’, she smiled.

She’d said that each day, but Esther knew she was being polite instead of being healed.

Miss Smith was still frail. She could walk around, talk and do some easy things, but everything still exhausted her.

‘I don’t think so, Miss Smith. Tomorrow perhaps.’

‘It’s been four days I’ve been taking that medicine. I’m doing fine.’

The room didn’t feel as stuffy and hot as a couple of days ago, when she’d been shivering despite the heat. She’d also picked up her needle work and side job as a seamstress again. They were small tasks, but she hadn’t been able to do them three days ago.

‘I can see you’re doing better. Rest assured, Miss Smith, I’m not enjoying your job too much. I don’t want it, and that old crow who bosses everyone around doesn’t like me either. Once you’re healed I can’t wait to be away.’

Miss Smith shook her head with a smile.

‘She isn’t too friendly, yes.’

‘One way to put it.’

Miss Smith threw a tired smile her way.

‘The dye is lightening, I can see more copper shining through each day, and you’ve got yourself an inch of grown out hair.’

‘Maybe I should do it again’, Esther contemplated as her hand instinctively went to her hair. She knew it’d been growing. The transition from copper to auburn was quite stark, but she cherished the inch of her natural colour. She mostly did her hair in an updo to cover the growth.

‘You could use soda and lemon juice, or vinegar, or maybe – I’ve only heard about it being used for clothing – a bit of bleach. But you should definitely test that first, it’s quite harsh. That could lighten it. Unless you really want it to be that dark?’

‘I’m actually not such a big fan. Perhaps I could try some of it, next time I dye it, I won’t leave the product in for as long. A lighter colour would work just as well… I hope.’

Miss Smith agreed and assured her that she was gaining in strength quickly, and that she’d be able to resume her job the next day. So Esther accepted the additional shift and wished Miss Smith a good day.

Nothing had ever happened during her shifts, and she was never asked to leave the kitchen since that first night, though the old crow remained mean and cold to her.

Just one more night, then she was rid of her and the threat of Lord Babington discovering her.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Esther entered the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charles Tennant (3 May 1768 – 1 October 1838) was the first person who invented bleach, he tinkered with the formula for a good decade before getting a patent in 1799. So by the time Sanditon takes place, which, based on the clothing, seems to be more towards the 1820’s than the beginning of the 19th century, it must’ve been known under the working class to some extent since it was wildly popular.


	8. Chapter 8

Why did the old hag have to be so spiteful?

Granted, Esther hadn’t been the submissive housemaid type swallowing everything thrown her way, but she’d done her part to the best of her capabilities.

The old crone had been mean since the beginning.

‘And without reason’, she huffed as she carried the last couple of casseroles towards their storage space. Why she had to put the dishes away on her own, she didn’t know. ‘I didn’t even do or say anything today.’ The silence was too loud to keep her thoughts to herself. Besides, the kitchen was empty anyways.

But wasn’t she cold and borderline mean herself whenever she talked to someone? What comes around, goes around. Did others feel as bad talking to her as she did when talking to that horrid old woman? ‘I’m not being mean without reason ever again.’

She’d used it as a shield to keep distance between herself and others, but surely there were other ways which didn’t hurt as much. Being friendly didn’t take any additional effort, and it would surely do her more good than harm. Edward had told her that people abused kindness, but as long as she was still herself and possessed het sharp mind and assessment skills, she wouldn’t let others abuse her. Being kind didn’t equal being trusting.

And perhaps, if she’d been kind, if she hadn’t just listened to Edward’s assessment of the people of Sandition, she would’ve gotten to know the others better. She might have made friends. When she arrived her heart still full with sadness at having lost her parents, followed by her friends because of the move. Her list of close acquaintances had slimmed down to one person. And the grief combined with her natural wary and anxious nature, had been the ideal breeding ground for Edward’s whispers. She’d sought guidance and comfort in the only person still close to her, and he’d made sure she never let anyone else close again. She’d trusted his judgement as she locked herself away, closing off her heart to keep anyone else from potentially hurting it.

But now Edward had hurt it, and she was left all alone without a single friend. She’d always seen herself as his equal, a partner, and to some extent she had been. But she’d also been naïve, not making up her own mind and ignoring the warning signs surrounding Edward. Perhaps being kind wouldn’t have hurt her as much. Just looking at the little bit of kindness she’d offered Miss Smith had gotten her lessons in cooking, cleaning and washing, vital things she couldn’t live without.

‘Sounds like a good thing, I loud you, Miss.’

She froze, pans in hand, as she kept her back towards the entryway. Her eyes instinctively looked for an exit.

He couldn’t be here.

Why was he here?

‘I’m sorry for disturbing your work. I’m just looking for the remainder of the dessert. It’s in the cellar right?’

She nodded and pointed at the cellar door. She walked towards the storage spot for the pans and buried her face in the cupboard until she could hear his footsteps going down the stairs.

Could she leave? She still had to put some bowls and cutlery away. She didn’t want to cause Miss Smith trouble. But if she didn’t hurry Babington would be back and could potentially discover her. How long did she have?

She jumped upright from the cupboard and raced towards the table with the things she had yet to put away.

Three minutes?

She grabbed the bowls.

It didn’t matter if she misplaced them, it would be a bit inconvenient but it could be put down to her not knowing their proper place. As long as Miss Smith didn’t get too much trouble. She placed the bowls with the first bowls she saw. She didn’t care. They were gone from sight, problem solved.

She ran for the door. Her hand took the know just as she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

She’d made it!

She wrung open the door and stepped aside to walk out just as she heard a door slam shut.

‘Esther?’

There she stood, halfway turned towards the kitchen as she was stepping out, face partially visible.

She didn’t even dare let her eyes travel to his direction.

_Run_, the irrational part of her brain screamed.

_It’s not too late just yet_, it tried to reason with her, despite the rational part of her brain knowing it wasn’t so.

She could, of course, still leave. What could come of any conversation they’d have? But something inside of her didn’t want to leave like a thief in the night.

‘Just so you know, I’m not in your kitchen without reason. I’m helping out a … friend.’

The words came out with a sharp edge, daring to question her excuse, weird as it sounded even to her own ears.

‘That’s… Kind.’

He didn’t question it. As if it was completely normal for Esther Denham to help someone. Her habits from the summer weeks in which she tried to chase him away were still deeply ingrained in her, it seemed, for the next sentence just slid from her lips before she’d even given any thought to it.

‘I owed her.’

She wasn’t worthy of any praise. She wasn’t a good person. She’d spent years loving a bad person, years being mean herself, treating everyone unfairly. No, he shouldn’t think well of her.

‘How does that bring you here though?’

‘She works in your kitchens. She was ill and had to rest. Figured I could do it, since I’m free at night while no one else is.’

The truth came out in the same way she’d confessed to him that Edward brushed her hair, with the same intention: warning him off. Now it wasn’t an intimate act between stepsiblings but her admitting she was friends with a servant and doing a servant’s job. She was not being overly friendly. She was lowered in society, and formed acquaintances with others down the bottom. Not that she knew of any other friends of Miss Smith. Not that there had been anyone wanting but unwilling to provide Miss Smith help. But to let him think she did this out of friendship, no, there was some loyalty and pity, but she also did it because she felt guilty for taking up so much of Miss Smith’s time and kindness before she’d fallen ill.

She could feel his bewilderment. Friends with a servant, dressed as a servant. It wouldn’t take him long before he’d figure it out. He didn’t ask about her hair, dress or where she lived. How could they even begin to cover it?

She supressed a laugh. Had it finally worked? Surely, any remaining sentiment he had for her would diminish now that he knew that Esther Denham, who had dismissed him half a year ago, had become his servant.

‘I thought you’d left.’

‘I have in every meaning of the word.’ Her looks, her lifestyle, her home, her family, her social circle, all had gone or changed.

‘Why?’

Was he really that dumb? Or did he just want to hear her say how poor she was?

‘You know why.’

‘You have friends here.’

‘I never treated them like it. So I don’t deserve their friendliness. Besides, there are only two options for how they’d treat me. Either they’d avoid me, or they would treat me as some kind of charity case which I have no desire of being. So I spared them the choice and myself the embarrassment.’

She isolated herself. Struggling through grief and lessened circumstances, all on her own, not thinking herself worthy of any help.

‘You wouldn’t have been a charity case, nor would I ever spurn you. Those who do so don’t deserve your acquaintance.’

_Of course you would because…_

Wait.

He wouldn’t? Why?

‘Well, you’ve always had a soft spot for what others would deem less than pleasant characters.’

‘Do I now?’ he asked with a smile.

‘Let me see, a hedonist prince, a rich gambling drunk, a broody standoffish man and now a woman who continuously mistreated you and actively discouraged you from pursuing her and has not a penny to her name?’

‘You paint a most charming picture of my friends and yourself. It seems I am indeed surrounded by bad characters. Perhaps I’ve weighed and measured their good sides against their bad sides, after knowing them for months and years on end. Perhaps I could see in them something you don’t?’

He took a step closer to her.

A chill crept down her spine. She liked to think it was the cold autumn air instead of the tension in the kitchen, so she closed the door to hide how uneasy he made her.

‘Miss Denham, I believe the insinuation of your earlier statement is quite troubling. Because I’m afraid you unintentionally gave the impression that whatever you think of my friends, you assume me to be the better party. Because if we were equal, their shortcomings would be equal to mine. Which would make us worthy of each other, would it not?’

It would. Her stomach jumped and turned. She was rendered mute by the shocking realisation. She’d thought about his shortcomings, she’d thought about the shortcomings of his friends, but never had she weighed them against each other. She could only nod as he stepped closer.

Her heartbeat was incredibly fast, the muscles of her legs were taut and ready to run, but her body couldn’t even take a single step back to keep a distance. Instead she embraced the weird cocktail of feelings as the distance between them steadily disappeared.

‘Yet, not months ago, you had plenty of critique. I’ve always trusted your superior judgement. So surely, one who analyses like you would not find it so hard to find fault in me? Please, do find one. Because my mind jumps to the strangest and most unlikely of conclusions right now. Please put me out of my misery and correct me right now.’

There had to be something.

_Come on, come on, I’ve always had something bad to say. _

Where were her reasons now?

Foolish, bad fashion, too generous, too trusting, naïve?

No, no, no, they didn’t weigh up against drunkenness and Sidney Parker’s overall air.

She looked up at him and her mind gave up.

Her lips shook, as her body still tried to form the words, though her head had given up the battle.

She knew the implications of her silence.

If she remained silent, it would mean that Lord Babington was the better man.

Months of reflection hadn’t brought her such despair and anxiety. She knew why she couldn’t list a fault. It was the same reason why he entered her thoughts and dreams for months on end, it was why her mind kept comparing him to Edward.

The last piece of the puzzle fell in place not in the privacy and comfort of her own home, where she could mull it over in peace, wondering what it meant and what to do. No, it came to full fruition as she looked him in the eyes, her lips finally stopping their futile attempt to form words. There was no privacy, and no time to reflect.

The weight of the meaning of her silence dawned on both of them at the same time.

_She loved him. _

As the invisible wall between them crumbled down, they were both rendered mute by the tension in the air.

For some mysterious magical reason, despite not seeing him for months, she had suddenly appeared in his kitchen, in love with him. A weight was lifted off of his chest. He couldn’t see any of the social barriers Esther was focussed on, or the reasons why nothing could come of her _sentiments_. He could only see her, no six inches removed from him, right within reach.

He didn’t know what caused it, but the tension snapped and they were holding each other, his lips against hers.

Her nails were digging in the skin at the nape of his neck as his hands gently massaged her back. Tiny light noises left her mouth, and if he could, he would capture the sound so he could listen to it in the dark of the night.

Her cold nose brushed against his as her lips moved to his cheek.

She wasn’t far from crying. He pressed a final kiss on her lips and then let his mouth descend towards her neck. She gasped for breath, as the urge to cry was wiped from her body and instead replaced by a burning fire. Her heartbeat halted and hammered on as her whole body turned from a shivering mess into flames, with the core being centred somewhere in her lower body. Her fingers slid into his hair, as her body instinctively turned towards his.

His hands slid down her back, coming to rest on her hips.

His mouth closed on a piece of tender pale flash and as the pressure increased, Esther lost her balance and fell against the door.

The moment was broken.

Staring at each other with eyes wide open, their sensibilities restored themselves. They weren’t supposed to act this way. They’d crossed the line of propriety by over a mile.

‘Miss Denham?’

Esther bit her lip to keep herself together.

‘We can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s not… We’re not… Equal.’

‘Equal?’

‘Can’t you see? It would’ve already been beneath your standards to marry me before. But now? You can’t. I can’t let you do it. It would be a disgrace.’

There it was, the confirmation for all her rebuttals, he’d suspected before that she’d been refusing him for reasons other than her disliking him. But now he could see them clearly. She was trapped by society and her family, pushed towards him by her aunt in unsubtle ways while her brother, the man of the family, had been clearly opposed to the match. And even now that her family was gone, the rules of society were still deeply ingrained upon her.

And all those attempts to keep him at bay, had they all been because she didn’t think of herself as a worthy partner?

‘But are we not now more equal than we’ve ever been? There’s no one telling you what to do, you are the only person in your own life you have to listen to right now. And I’m an unattached wealthy man, I’m privileged to be one of the rare few to be free to do as I please. People wouldn’t dare critique someone like me… At least not out in the open.’

‘Maybe you, yes. But not me. A lady’s reputation, especially a poor one, is all she has. I don’t have the luxury of doing as I please.’

‘And what would you do if you could do as you pleased?’

She shook her head.

‘Nobody would insult my fiancée, or my wife.’

Her eyes shot towards him again.

‘But I’m just… I’m… No. I can’t let you do it. Esther Denham is dead, all there is, is a poor servant. I won’t have them speak of you, not even when your back is turned. You’re a fool if you can’t see how wrong it would be.’

‘But, Esther – ‘

‘It would be an unmitigated disaster.’

Before he could reach out to her, she pulled open the door and disappeared in the dark of night.

The silence was deafening. Just an hour earlier, he’d been ready to go to bed, saying goodbye to yet another average day… But now his life had been turned upside down in less than half an hour.

He doubted he’d find her in his kitchens again. But somewhere in Sanditon, Esther Denham lived, with his heart which she still possessed, while she was still as unwilling as ever to marry him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys, I just can't have it happening quite yet.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for reading, commenting and liking. It means a lot to me. The next chapter will probably be the last one, stay tuned!

Five days after the family had first arrived in London, Esther enjoyed a couple of free hours in a shoe shop. She’d taken some of her fancier clothes and jewellery with her to London. An unaccompanied woman couldn’t go to a lot of places, but at least she would be able to feel good again in her old clothes.f And after trying out some of the treatments Miss Smith had recommended her for lightening her hair, her locks were almost back to their old shade. She didn’t mind looking into the mirror for the first time in months.

She noticed a pair of blue embroidered shoes. She reached for them, fingertips already bending to grip them when her hand collided with that of someone else's.

‘Oh, excuse me.’

‘Miss Heywood.’

‘Miss Denham! I- oh, what are you doing here? No, that sounds bad. I apologize. It’s nice to see you, what brings you here?’

‘To this shop or to London? I had a couple of free hours so I decided to visit some shops.’

‘Free hours?’

‘Never mind that. How are you?’

She looked bad. She was skinny, and with her hair drawn back and pinned up, the dark circles underneath her eyes stood out.

‘I’m fine.’

_Welcome to London, where everyone lies, even the good ones. _

Esther couldn’t stop a snort.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

‘I’m sorry. You’re a bad liar, Miss Heywood, and I didn’t take you for a liar.’

‘Lies are better than the truth, from time to time’, the girl admitted while putting the shoe down.

Esther assessed the insecure girl who stared at the floor while telling comforting lies. It was a far cry from the vibrant confidant Miss Heywood she’d met this summer. Perhaps it was because she herself had become so acquainted with misery that she couldn’t stand to see others suffering, but she just couldn’t bear to see the young happy girl down in dumps like this.

‘Would you mind walking? The walls have ears in London’, Esther asked.

Charlotte nodded, hooking her arm through Esther’s offered one.

‘I admit I’m surprised you said you were happy to see me’, Esther admitted upon exiting the shop.

‘Why?’

‘Well, after our that first week, we never really talked anymore.’

‘Oh! It wasn’t anything personal. It was just… After discovering Mr. Denham and Miss Brereton together, and since you were their family and always near Mr. Denham, I felt incredibly uncomfortable approaching you. It confused me a lot. But then many things in Sanditon confused me. You were right, about Sanditon.’

‘How so?’

‘It was great adventure, but, I doubt I’d ever do it again. I’ve come to regret it a bit.’

‘Why?’

Her mouth moved and shoulders shook, as if her body was resisting her mind’s urge to tell.

The conversation between Lord Babington and Mrs. Lauder came to the front of her mind.

‘Oh, just… I really missed being home. Sanditon was very different from what I was used to. The people are so very different in the countryside, there’s a different attitude.’

‘Everyone’s closed off and obsessed with money in Sanditon.’

‘No, well yes, but –‘

‘But that isn’t the problem. The problem lies with a certain gentleman, doesn’t it?’

‘Why can everyone always read me so!’

Charlotte tore her arm free and took a couple of steps backwards, arms crossed in front of her chest to create some kind of imaginative protective barrier.

‘I can’t. I overheard a conversation. I heard that apparently Mr. Parker is miserably engaged, because he is in love with you.’

‘He is? Oh no he should''t, I don’t want him to be miserable. Why is he miserable?’

‘Because he loves you.’

‘he proposed. She accepted him. She loves him. He has to go through with it’ Charlotte’s eyes were glassy with tears.

‘It was just for the money. For his brother.’

‘Tom’, Charlotte breathed. She shook her head at first, then nodding. 'There isn’t anything to be done about it. They need the money.’

‘I know it isn’t of any consequence, but I know how it feels when the ones you care about, only care about money.’

‘He doesn’t care for money. He cares for his family. He sacrificed us for his family. I kept on telling him he should do more for his family.’

She shook her head, fighting the onset of tears.

Esther took her arm.

‘Can’t we go somewhere private?’

Charlotte nodded.

‘I’m residing with Lady Susan, she invited me.’

‘Lady Susan? Lady Susan Worcester?’

Charlotte nodded quietly.

‘I needed time away from Sanditon, but the countryside was too quiet. She offered me to stay with her in London for a couple of weeks, since there’s always something to do in London.’

‘And the Parkers are supposed to remain in Sanditon.’

Charlotte nodded.

‘You’re going to have to lead the way.’

And so Esther was guided to the wealthiest part of London, and brought to a gorgeous blue drawing room, where she and Esther finally admitted the truth about how their past few months had been, shame flooding Charlotte when she heard how much the redhead had suffered the past few months while she’d only had a heartache. But Esther didn’t want her pity, though she was incredibly surprised by the warmth and kindness Charlotte showed, despite them never having been real friends.

It felt so good to have someone to talk to about something aside from language and household chores.

The hours slid by, and suddenly Lady Susan announced herself.

Awkward introductions were made, since Esther had missed her in Sanditon because her aunt had died and she’d kept to herself during the regatta. Only watching it from a far distance because she'd been curious how Lord Babington would fare. She hadn’t known what to expect from an incredibly wealthy and famous lady, but she hadn’t expected the warm soothing woman she turned out to be, after she’d critically analysed Esther the first thirty minutes before deciding the redhead had good intentions.

They talked for an additional hour, with Esther eventually staying over for dinner at the insistence of the two women. And it was over dinner, she was invited for a ball which happened to take place the evening before her day off, meaning she could come home a bit later than usual.

She tried rejecting the invitation, but eventually accepted, agreeing to come to Lady Susan’s house to prepare herself on the day itself.

A week passed by, the Hurstwhiles agreed with Esther’s request to arrive home after twelve, and Esther prepared herself together with Lady Susan and Charlotte. Esther decided to take over Charlotte’s hair, because ever since she decided to put it up, her hairstyles had looked too hard and mature on the young woman. The updo Esther created collected Charlotte’s curled hair together, with the last inches of curled hair escaping from the bun, while loose curls framed her face in a more natural way. She adorned her hair with a couple of fresh flowers, and all by all, the total picture looked quite lovely. Esther wore the grey dress she’d intended to wear at the midsummer ball before her aunt died. Her hair was put up hastily and the whole was tied with a shiny grey sash. She wore some of her aunts jewellery she’d kept, and decided she could at least pass for a lady that night.

Charlotte clung to her, not particularly looking forward to men dancing and flirting with her.

‘How did you do it, all those years, when you weren’t feeling up to it?’

‘Oh, it’s quite easy. Don’t compliment them. Don’t be grateful when they compliment you, they are only saying it because they want to achieve something with it and you are definitely worth more than cheap and superficial compliments. Don’t go out of your way to keep the conversation going either. You’ll be amazed by just how few men can endure five minutes in the presence of a woman who isn’t focussed on accommodating them and making them feel good.’

‘I do fear you’ll have it rough though, Esther. Lady Susan is quite determined on helping you find a husband.’

‘But didn’t I tell both her and you that no sane man would or should marry me? I don’t have a dowry, I’m an orphan, my family can’t host the wedding breakfast… It would be shameful.’

‘She thinks that very wealthy men, especially the older ones, don’t particularly care.’

‘May the lord be with me’, Esther begged.

And a Lord indeed came to be with her. Charlotte was neatly returned to her and Lady Susan after each dance, with none asking for seconds because Charlotte adapted the Esther-method-of-scaring-men-away. ‘I actually feel insulted, no one even tries to get to know me. They don’t try to keep up a conversation. They don’t ask about me. If I don’t talk they don’t do anything. It’s really made me aware of just how much they depend on me to take care of everything’, Charlotte confessed in between dances. Esther too was introduced to a couple of men, and a few danced with her too, though most were quite a bit older than the ones dancing with Charlotte. Esther had just been returned, and Charlotte had just been taken away, when Lady Susan smiled at someone behind Esther.

‘Lord Babington! What a surprise! I thought you were staying in Sanditon!’

Esther froze. She couldn’t turn around, so she just pretended to listen to whatever the women Lady Susan had been talking to, discussed. Could she even run away?

‘I was. But there was a change of plans. Mrs. Campion was determined to come to London, so Mr. Parker, Mr. Crowe and I decided to come along. But it was too late to send a letter in advance.’

‘Speaking of letters, how are you doing. Your last letters had me a bit worried, with your writing of heartache’, the woman asked quietly, obviously meaning for no one to overhear, but Esther stood almost back to back with Lady Susan and was listening intently, so she heard.

‘I just can’t understand who’d ever refuse you. I thought nothing could be more surprising than hearing that you were actually considering marriage, but then you told me you had proposed and been refused and I was honestly baffled. You’re such a good man, Lord Babington, don’t let it get you down for too long. There are so many others who will be able to see all your good qualities.’

Esther bit her lip. It was clear Lady Susan didn’t know the name of the person who’d refused Lord Babington, she doubted she would have been as welcome in her house had she known it was Esther herself who’d refused him.

‘The ballroom is filled with them.’

‘Many money seekers too.’

‘Not all of them. I won’t allow you to talk so poorly of my sex. We are loving nurturing creatures after all.’

‘Allow me to introduce you to a new friend of mine, you already know the other ladies. Ladies, look who has just arrived, it’s Lord Babington. Lord Babington, you remember Miss Langdon, Mrs. Ball and Lady Darcy, and this is my new friend: Miss Denham.’

It was too late to escape. His eyes connected with hers, surprise written in them as he took her hand.

‘Miss Denham, pleased to meet you.’

‘Miss Denham, this is my dear friend Lord Babington. He happens to be a friend of Mr. Parker, who you know.’

She wanted to cry at the injustice of it all. Just looking at him made her want to cry. He was so close, even holding her hand, yet she couldn’t have him. And all his friends tried to get him to move on and marry happily, while she would remain behind alone, the victim of her own stupid decisions and her family’s greed.

Esther nodded, blinking the pressing feeling against her eyes away.

‘A dance?’

‘Thank you.’

He lead her to the dance floor. Charlotte wasn’t far removed.

‘How did you come to be here, Esther?’

‘I could ask you the same question.’

‘I’m invited to the ball’, Lord Babington explained, his voice ever soft. She felt guilty rebuffing his question.

‘Lady Susan and Charlotte asked me to come.’

‘Charlotte? Miss Heywood. She’s here?’

‘Yes? Why?’

She looked around the room.

‘Don’t tell me Mr. Parker is here as well.’

‘As is Mrs. Campion’, he admitted.

The music started, and there was nothing left to be done but start to dance.

‘Charlotte’s over there, dancing’, Esther said while nodding her head in Charlotte’s direction.

‘We mustn’t let them meet. I don’t think Sidney would survive it.’

‘At least he still had some choice, Charlotte’s been suffering the consequences of his choice for months.’

Lord Babington looked quite unhappy about the situation as well. She’d heard he hated the conversation, but she’d never been able to see his face in the Lauder House when he spoke of it.

‘I’ve been agonizing over a possible solution for months.’

‘That’s kind of you.’

‘He’s my friend, I don’t like seeing him unhappy, especially not when it’s probably for the rest of his life. He doesn’t love her, and I highly doubt she loves him. I think, to be frank, she was still interested in him when she met him at a London ball he attended during the summer. But that she couldn’t stand the sight of him and Miss Heywood when she was in Sanditon, and became jealous when she realized she was a childless widow while her handsome former lover was near a happy marriage with a younger woman. Like a child who doesn’t care for a certain toy until another picks it up.’

Esther nodded.

‘Her reasons don’t matter to me, what matters to me is Charlotte becoming happy again. She deserves that.’

‘As does Sidney… As do you.’

‘Lord Babington I –‘

‘Miss Denn, Is that you? How on earth did you get an invite to this party?’

Esther stopped dancing as she recognized the voice. The Lauders.

‘You- You know each other?’ Lord Babington asked Mrs. Lauder.

‘Well yes,’ the older woman said in confusion, ‘she’s the language teacher of our children. I’m more surprised you know her, Lord Babington.’

‘Excuse me’, Esther said before running away in mortification. As if it couldn’t get any worse, after having him discover her in his kitchens. Now her secret life was uncovered by Lord Babington and the Lauders. How would she ever explain? What did they have to think: a teacher present at one of London’s most important balls? People with the kind of jobs the Lauders had, and the money the Lauders had, barely qualified to attend, a teacher would have had no business here.

But just before she ran out of the hall, she spotted a blonde woman marching towards Lady Susan together with Sidney Parker. Charlotte was blissfully unaware of the coming confrontation as she was talking to her friend. Esther changed course, almost running towards the brown haired women and urging them to move as Mrs. Campion was coming. Charlotte paled visibly upon hearing they were attending, and Lady Susan urged them to go, so that they had time to escape.

‘Oh I feel so mortified, I don’t know what came over me. I could always talk to him, but now I suddenly dreaded meeting him. I ran like a coward.’

‘Not a coward, why should you pain yourself by talking to him while his wretch of a fiancée is standing next? Lady Susan is on your side, she’ll work her magic and find a way to break the engagement.’

‘Oh no, she mustn’t. They need the money. Sanditon is at stake.’

That evening, long after Charlotte and Esther had gone to bed, Lady Susan managed to get Mrs. Campion talking on all kind of taboo topics, pretending to be just as hedonistic as many people of her circle were. And Mrs Campion, hoping to impress Lady Susan, and wanting to be liked by one of London’s most famous, spilled all, without giving attention to a part of the room which was concealed from her, where the Prince Regent, Sidney, Crowe and Babington sat.

And they all overheard how she first admitted she understood the adulterous friends Lady Susan pretended to care about, and then, when propped, admitted to having cheated on her old husband with another married man and having continued that relationship after her husband’s death, admitting that her old sweetheart in need of money was the ideal victim to marry to cover up any potential children out of wedlock.

And so Mrs. Campion was found out, by London’s most famous and influential people, and a solution to Sidney Parker’s problem was found.


	10. Chapter 10

Somewhere in London, Esther was teaching two small children Italian. Each time she saw their parents to report their progress, she feared. Did they know the Lauders? Had word spread that a poor teacher from Sanditon had attended a ball which was also attended by the prince regent? Or had the news spread that Esther Denham, from the old Denham family, had pretended to be a teacher?

Yet each time, the parents treated her as they always had, and after a week, her panic quieted down. She visited Charlotte four days after the ball, and discovered that Mr. Parker’s fiancée had confessed to deliberately entrapping Mr. Parker because of an affair. The news was not public, since those who discovered it knew not how to use the information. Charlotte was beside herself. She worried for Sidney, since his family needed the money but it had become clear that there was nothing pure about Mrs. Campion’s intentions. Her heart bled for Mr. Parker. It even filled her with rage that Mrs. Campion abused Sidney’s reduced circumstances for her own gain, while Charlotte herself was side-lined.

Lady Susan attended the meeting as well, and noticed the elegance with which Esther carried herself, and the hate she professed to harbour for money. She observed the care and passion she masked behind a moderately cool exterior. She spoke her mind as well: in a completely honest and eloquent way. If it wasn’t for the lack of money and relationships, she would be a fine match for any Lord. She was past twenty-five, but she looked young and pretty enough and had plenty of knowledge to offer meaningful conversation. That put her way ahead of most young maidens in the eyes of any man who looked for a real companion instead of a breeding mare. She decided that it would not be impossible for her heartbroken friend to like the girl.

‘Miss Denham, do you have anything to do on the night of the twenty-second?’

‘That’s Wednesday next week, right? Nothing, Lady Susan.’

‘Would you like to accompany Charlotte and me to an opera?’

‘Oh, Lady Susan, I don’t quite know if I could pay that. I took some money with me but –‘

‘I’m not paying either, a friend was so kind as to offer me a box for free, since he wasn’t going. So do you wish to go?’

Esther’s mouth fell open. Box seats for a London opera? It was one of the things Edward had always promised her, but she’d never even visited London once until now. She couldn’t fathom how just months ago she lost any chance at a future in which things like opera visits were in the realm of possibilities… yet here she was. She couldn’t even pretend to be calm.

‘Yes. I would be forever grateful, Lady Susan. I’ve always wanted to see an opera.’

‘Good, then it’s arranged. Can you get here by seven thirty? It starts at eight.’ Esther could only nod mutely.

Wearing her aunt’s pearl necklace and her own lavender dress which she hadn’t worn since Lord Babington had proposed to her, she entered Lady Susan’s coach a week later. She felt quite awkward wearing it, but it had been one of her newest dresses, and she didn’t want to wear a dress which was out of style when she attended an opera with Lady Susan. Besides, it also happened to be one of the easier of her pretty dresses to wash… or so she suspected, she’d never actually tried.

Charlotte quickly filled her in on everything she’d missed out on. Apparently, Sidney had written to his brothers about Mrs. Campion the day after the ball. And by some kind of miracle, he’d gotten a letter back from Arthur suggesting that, since he had never been interested in getting married, he wouldn’t mind marrying her. That way Mrs. Campion’s name would be saved, and Tom would be able to avoid debtor’s prison.

Sidney had travelled to Sanditon to talk things over with Arthur, since he really didn’t enjoy the thought of forcing an unhappy marriage on another brother just so that he himself would be able to escape it. But apparently Arthur had thought everything through, and though Charlotte confessed that Sidney would only tell her what Arthur’s reasons were once she married him. Because yes, after having talked things through with Arthur, and convincing Mrs. Campion they were doing her a favour by settling it quietly instead of having the tonne of London find out, he immediately went over to propose to Charlotte.

She’d accepted, apparently barely managing to get the words out in between tears of relief and happiness. She was still more guarded and insecure than she had been in Sanditon, and all was not well between her and Sidney, but Esther liked to believe that Charlotte would turn out fine in the end.

After everything she’d experienced herself, she doubted Charlotte would ever be the same again, just like she would never be able to go back to the old Esther she was. Nor would she want to. That Esther had been unnecessarily cruel and cold, and had been isolated because of the aforementioned character traits. But she knew that the unhappiness was something which could go away, if circumstances changed, which they had for Charlotte.

They exited the carriage before Charlotte could finish the retelling of her week, so her friend was unable to inform her that Mr. Parker had visited her each day since, and would also be attending the opera together with his friend Lord Babington. Which resulted in Esther being once again unprepared to meet him.

‘Lady Susan’, Sidney Parker greeted as both he and Babington bowed. Lady Susan nodded her head.

‘Miss Denham, I didn’t know you were in London.’

‘No, I was at the ball last week, but Miss Heywood and I left before we could meet each other’, Esther admitted with a smile while happily skipping over the part where she and Charlotte had actively avoided him. ‘I’ve heard my congratulations are in order. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It’s getting late, shall we?’ Lady Susan asked.

The older woman had craftily planned the evening. Another female friend of hers was already in the box, so she sat down beside her. Charlotte, being a friend who stayed over with her, had to sit next to Lady Susan, and Mr. Parker, being the fiancé, had to sit next to his fiancée. And the seats were thus organized that four seats followed the half circle shape of the box, while two seats were placed at the back of the box, right in the middle, at a slightly higher level so that they’d be able to see everything. And these, were the seats remaining for Esther and Babington.

Charlotte had never been aware of the whole courting fiasco, and though Sidney was, he could not ask for a change of seats without having to make public the reason.

Her heart was beating fast. She wished she could hate Lord Babington. Watching an opera had been a dream ever since she was a small girl, but with all the emotions coursing through her, she was certain she wouldn’t be able to pay attention to the opera.

She thumbed through the small book each of them had been given. It gave the original text in Italian without translation, a list of the performers, a short description of the play, and the hour of break.

‘You don’t happen to know Italian, Miss Denham?’

The hairs on her arms lifted when she heard how close his voice was. She’d lost all control over her body whenever he was near. She wished though, that her body could at least send clear signals. Because now she felt butterflies, which she supposed was love, but at the same time she felt cold and hot, and her heart beat as if she’d just seen something dangerous. Was her body attracted to him or was it trying to signal it feared him? She did not know.

‘I do.’

‘Well?’

‘Well enough to teach it’, she admitted with a sigh.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know it. Latin was wasted on me, and because of the awful experience with Latin I steered clear from Italian.’

‘Then what languages did you learn?’

‘French, German, Spanish, bit of Cornish.’

‘Cornish?’

‘I’ve got to know what everyone on my estate calls me underneath their breath’, he laughed.

‘You don’t sound like you’re from there.’

‘That’ll be the years of schooling and the fact that I’ve spent most of my adult years away from home. But now as to what I was meaning to ask you, would you be willing to translate certain parts for me? Not all of them, I can usually follow along by simply by reading the synopsis and watching the scenes unfold so I won’t bother you too much.’

‘It’s fine’, Esther agreed.

‘Thank you, Miss Denham.’

She didn’t look at him. She was afraid that if she did, she’d be lost. She was certain that he’d be able to read her eyes if she looked at him, and see the love and heartache in them. And she didn’t even want to know what his eyes would tell her. It would only make it harder for them, if they knew the other wanted them.

He was still ever as kind and wonderful, and a future with him was still impossible. How on earth could he be so graceful still, after being refused twice? She wasn’t worthy of the kindness. Only a fool refused someone like him twice.

It was only when the theatre darkened, she could feel herself relax a little. And though she was very aware of every movement Lord Babington made, she couldn’t help but lean forward ever so slightly to listen and watch. The curtains rose, and Esther could barely contain a gasp.

Behind the curtain hid a great ballroom with large chandeliers, burning candles, large mirrors and a beautiful carpet on the floor. It looked even better than Lady Denham’s ballroom.

The costumes are marvellous, the music engaging and uplifting, and she finds herself raptured by it all scene after scene.

Violetta starts quarrelling with the new man interested in her, and Esther feels a light hand on her wrist. She looks aside, eyes connecting with Lord Babington’s, who smiles awkwardly.

Just like the leading lady, Esther drew back into her chair, leaning softly to his side.

‘What are they saying?’

‘What a thing to say! Who cares what happens to me?’

Esther translated as the woman sang along, translating as they were singing. The man sang next.  
  
‘For no one in the world loves you.  
  
VIOLETTA  
No one?  
  
ALFREDO  
... except for me.  
  
VIOLETTA  
That's true!  
I'd forgotten that grand passion.  
  
ALFREDO  
You laugh!  
But all the same, you have a heart.  
  
VIOLETTA  
A heart? Yes, perhaps.  
Why do you ask?  
  
ALFREDO  
Yet if you had,  
You wouldn't make fun of me.  
  
VIOLETTA  
Are you really serious?  
  
ALFREDO  
I wouldn't deceive you.  
  
VIOLETTA  
Then how long have you loved me?  
  
ALFREDO  
For more than a year.  
  
One happy day  
You flashed lightly into my life;  
And since then I've lived  
In tremulous possession  
Of that unspoken love,  
The pulse of the whole world,  
Mysterious, unattainable,  
The torment and delight of my heart.  
  
VIOLETTA  
If that is true, then leave me.  
Friendship is all I can offer you.  
I don't know how to love,  
I couldn't feel so great an emotion.  
I'm being honest with you ? sincere …  
You should look for someone else,  
Then you wouldn't find it hard  
To forget me.’

Esther took a deep breath, steadying herself, eyes remaining focussed on the stage Alfredo exited, leaving Violette behind on her own. It hit too close to home, having the man proclaim his love for Violetta and Violetta refusing him because of her poor position in society, and proclaiming to not feel anything for him.

She could still hear herself lying to him when he asked her whether her answer had been true and without pretence. But just like Violetta, though she wished to be forgotten by him, she hadn’t been sincere when she said she didn’t know love.

She found herself unable to translate the next scene.

Her eyes burned, aching to cry. The final scene of the first act began.

Violetta was alone and abandoned, walking over the stage, sinking through her knees every now and then, suffering from illness and confusing emotions, before falling down into a magnificent green chair and continuing her song.

  
‘How strange it is … how strange!  
Those words are carved upon my heart!  
Would a true love bring me misfortune?   
What do you think, o my troubled spirit?  
No man before kindled a flame like this.  
Oh, joy …  
I never knew …  
To love and to be loved!  
Can I disdain this for a life of sterile pleasure?’

Violetta fell down on the floor, clutching her heart. Tears slipped from Esther’s eyes. She felt naked while translating the lyrics. They felt too intimate, too true. Each sentence resonating with her own feelings. It was as if she was confessing how she felt to Lord Babington, and the experience was both excruciatingly painful and incredibly cathartic.   
  


Violetta crawled upright. Walking through the empty ballroom as the music became cheerful once again. The woman took off her gloves and jewellery, as if she, during the song, was laying herself bare as well.

  
‘Was this the man my heart,  
Alone in the crowd,  
Delighted many times to paint  
In vague, mysterious colours?  
This man, so watchful yet retiring,  
Who haunted my sickbed  
And turned my fever  
Into the burning flame of love!  
That love,  
The pulse of the whole world,  
Mysterious, unattainable,  
The torment and delight of my heart.  
  
It's madness! It's empty delirium!  
A poor, lonely woman  
Abandoned in – ‘

She couldn’t do it anymore. She stood upright and slipped away from the box, unbeknownst to the four persons sitting in the front.

She stumbled into the hall. Her breathing was quick and ragged. She need air.

Her hands gripped at her throat. She couldn’t get the pressing feeling from her chest. Her heart was beating too quickly, and the floor traitorously swung in front of her eyes. The lack of oxygen to her brain was making her dizzy, and the tears clouding her vision weren’t helping either.

‘Esther?’

She halted, tripping over her own feet before turning around to face him.

‘Are you alright?’

She didn’t deign that question worthy of a response.

‘Please, talk to me.’

She closed her eyes, more tears falling down.

A sob wracked through her body.

She couldn’t do this anymore. She’d been trying so hard to get her life on some sort of rails. To move on, despite that her heart only fell in love with him more and more each day. She’d tried doing the right thing. She’d denied her feelings, fought them, hidden them, and even ignored them when she was offered a second proposal.

But she was only human.

She looked at him, wiping the tears away from her eyes to see him clearly.

She knew what lay between them. She could even list the reasons why they couldn’t and shouldn’t be together in her sleep. But he made it damn hard to listen to reason by insisting to be so incredibly lovely at each and every turn.

She was tired of fighting.

And she was tired of being unhappy.

She wanted to be happy.

She wanted to be able to laugh.

She wanted to love.

And most of all, she desperately wished to finally, _finally_, be loved by someone in return.

Her voice had slipped out of her alongside the tears. What could she even say?

What should she say?

‘Esther?’

‘I- I can’t go back.’

‘Then don’t go back.’

‘But we’re not intended to go anywhere from here, you’re you, and I’m me.’

‘Perhaps, but we can if we please. Only we decide.’

He took a step towards her.

‘Miss Denham, I am compelled to go forward.’

Only he would attempt humour during times like these. But she couldn’t help herself from laughing and shaking her head.

‘If it is only us, what would you say? In complete honesty?’

They’d been here before. He allowed her a second chance at honesty.

She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. The only reasons she’d hesitated had been because of society and Babington’s social position. But Babington himself claimed that he didn’t care for their opinion, and had been confident that no friend of the prince regent would ever be treated poorly. So that left only society.

She’d ruined her previous shot because of Edward. She hadn’t had any friends because of Edward.

Was she really going to give up her agency again just to please some people who didn’t care for her?

She only had to reach out her hands and take it.

The forbidden fruit.

Pleasures beyond her knowledge.

Love.

Knowledge only married people possessed.

‘Yes.’

His eyes widened.

She was in his arms in seconds, her lips pressed against his.

The heat, the cold, the uneven breathing and the racing heartbeat culminated during the kiss. Suddenly, all the sensations which had felt strange and frightening before, clicked together in a wave of extraordinary passion which she put into the kiss, deepening it as his hands pressed against her lower back.

Feelings of joy and euphoria filled her as the passionate intensity of their first kiss slowly ebbed away, making place for a warm fuzzy feeling as she finally relaxed against him.

‘Oh, Esther. My love.’

His hands stroked her hair with gentleness , his lips pressing against her temple.

‘Don’t go.’

She barely understood his fear through the haze of absolute bliss. He still feared she would change her mind like she had last time.

‘I won’t.’

‘Marry me.’

Her heartbeat picked up again, but this time she wasn’t afraid. She only wished to hold him even more tightly, and to kiss him even deeper than she had before.

‘Alright.’

‘Y-You accept.’

‘Of course. I’d be a fool to refuse you’, she smiled, hinting at having overheard Lady Susan’s conversation.

‘There is no doubt she’ll be shocked at just how fast her matchmaking proved successful.’

‘Then perhaps, we should quit the pretence, and confess to having known each other before.’

‘Perhaps leaving out the bumps in the road.’

Esther nodded, nuzzling his chest.

‘She wouldn’t like me anymore if she knew I refused you before.’

‘And I don’t want anyone thinking poorly of my fiancée.’

Esther bit her lip.

It was real.

It was happening.

‘Do we have to pretend tonight?’

‘Do you want to?’

‘I don’t want to let you go anymore’, she confessed while finally gazing into his lovely green eyes without fear.

‘Then we won’t’, he promised her before kissing her tenderly.

And he kept true to his word. He always had, and he always would.

To have and to hold.

To treasure.

To cherish.

And honour above all others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opera was La Traviata, which didn't come out until much later, but I've spend over an hour looking up opera's and aria's, deciding on who would do the translating and what play would fit best. I'm allowed some artistic liberties every now and then.
> 
> I'm still deciding on whether I'd do an epilogue, but right now I just want to clarify that:  
\- I believe Arthur to either be asexual or gay, especially since he said that he wasn't really planning on marrying or using his inheritance. I've used a similar solution in one of my 12 Days of Sanditon fic "The Christmas Miracle" (do check that one out if you're interested)  
\- Charlotte and Sidney and Esther and Babington wouldn't be having a double wedding since Charlotte would obviously have a large wedding near her home, so all of her family would be able to attend, while the circumstances and characters of Esther and Babington obviously call for a much smaller wedding. I imagine them having a very small wedding in the family chapel of his estate. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for the likes and comments, they meant so much to me. This is my first multiple chapters story I've wrapped in a long time. It wasn't perfect, it was written in between my uni deadlines, often at 3 or 4 am without a proper proofread, and sometimes that showed :p But I had a great time and I hope you had as well.   
Much love and happy holidays!


	11. Epilogue

‘Miss Den..ham… Lord Babington asked me to bring you this once you had awoken.’

Mary Smith came in, carrying a tray filled with breakfast, a letter, and a wrapped gift.

Esther looked away from the windows she’d just opened to breathe in the air carrying the scent of spring – which currently smelled decidedly of manure but Esther didn’t care – and approached the former kitchen maid who would from now on be in their permanent employment, with a big raise.

The sound of blaring sheep and the lowing of the cows filled the fine room she had been sleeping in for the past couple of weeks. This place was definitely no Sanditon or London.

‘Thank you, Mary’, Esther replied as she took the letter from the tray.

‘I’m sorry, Miss. I still haven’t gotten used to your name yet.’

‘Luckily for you, there’s no need. It’ll only be a couple of hours until it changes again’, Esther remarked lightly, though she was in fact very anxious at the thought of walking down the aisle.

‘Shall I inform the other ladies that you are awake, so they can help you prepare?’

‘I believe I’d rather have my breakfast in peace. I’ll let the most nearby servant know when I want the other ladies in my room.’

‘Very well, Miss Denn.. ham, Denham.’

Mary placed Esther’s tray on the small table on Esther’s balcony. It was the end of March, so it was by all accounts still cold outside, as could be attested by the mist wrapping around the base of the nearby hills, and the pale sun gracing the pale blue sky. Yet Esther had found herself enjoying breakfast outside. Her morning coat was thick and her tea was hot, which was enough to keep her warm as she overlooked Babington’s lands.

She still couldn’t believe she’d made it. Today she was going to marry Lord Babington, she, the penniless orphan gentlewoman who had sunk as low as to enter employment.

Mary poured her a cup of chamomile tea – Esther was usually a strict drinker of black and green tea, but Mary assumed that she would have need of something to soothe the nerves today – and left her alone to enjoy her breakfast.

Esther was too nervous to pay attention to it. Nor did she notice that instead of the sturdier breakfast she usually had, her tray was now filled with a bowl of sliced fruit and oats with jam. The kitchen had accurately guessed that a bride would be too nervous for beans, greens and bread. She took a spoonful of fruit and a sip of tea before unsteadily opening the letter. She knew nothing bad could be in it, this was a letter from Lord Babington after all, yet she could not help but be nervous.

_‘My dear Esther,_

_This morning II am forbidden from seeing you, lest I curse our wedding, but I wished to speak to you one more time before we walk down the aisle. No doubt you’re curious about the gift, but I shall only address this at the end of the letter.”_

Esther’s eyes fluttered to the rectangular package with a smile, he knew her.

_“You made me the happiest man when you agreed to marry me four months ago. That happiness has only increased as we spent more time together to get to know each other and to prepare our wedding. In a couple of hours I shall officially promise to protect you and shield you from harm. I hope my attempt to shield you from malicious comments and safely introduce you into a selective part of society has already shown you I shall not take my responsibilities lightly. My happiness lies with you, and I vow to do everything in my might to safeguard your smile, the very hesitant but happy one I hope you’re sporting right now as you no doubt wish to mock me for my sentimentalism.”_

Esther shook her head, indeed sporting a repressed smile. She did not doubt the truth of his statement. They had carefully planned her resignation as a tutor, her introduction into society, and their wedding, making sure no information about Esther’s whereabouts those four months became known. He had even given up the big London society wedding a man of his status deserved, and had most willingly offered having a quiet wedding in his family chapel instead.

_“Esther, I love you most ardently. I believe I grew fond of you when you had no patience for Crowe’s antics, started falling when you kept on dismissing me, and finally became fully smitten during our walk on the day of the cricket match. You are the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. Your beauty, wit, intelligence, honesty, perseverance and humility are a precious blend of traits which never bore me and infinitely endear you to me. I’ve learned so much about you in the past few months, which I’ve only seen the barest glimpses off before. Even those glimpses had been enticing, and the exploration of your depths since then has only made me more excited to learn more about you, and grow with you in the next stages of our life._

_I know the wedding preparations have made you nervous, but we’ve both done our best to ensure that this wedding will be about us instead of others, so I hope you’ll be able to enjoy this day to some extent. It matters not to me if you decide you dislike today, you don’t have to pretend to enjoy it in case you do not, what matters to me is not this day, but all the days after, which I hope you will enjoy. I promise I shall strive to make you happy each day until our last. _

_Yours faithfully, _

_Your husband. _

_PS: You shall find that a bottle of Stephanotis accompanies this letter. I bought it at Floris in London when I went shopping for wedding rings with Sidney. The scent is a combination of stephanotis which I’m told translates to ‘marital happiness’; carnation linked to love and distinction; lily-of-the-valley meaning ‘return to happiness’ and soft yet spicy undertones to ground the scent. So I gift it to you as a promise of love and happiness, while still honouring your dislike for untempered sweetness.”_

Esther gently picked up the gift, unwrapping the yellow box with the transparent bottle of light butter yellow liquid. Somehow, he’d succeeded in finding a perfume the exact colour of her wedding dress. She bit her lip, supressing her emotions as she took a sniff. The scent was a soft warm floral vividly evoking the mental image of a fresh flower with thick juicy petals.

What had she ever done to deserve such a husband?

She managed to eat her bowl of fruit, but she could not gather enough appetite for the rest and instead took place behind her vanity to unwrap the curls she’d put in the night before. Her hair was finally back to her old shade, she would marry as herself, as if nothing had happened after her aunt died and that was how she’d like to keep it. To the outside world she wished to remain Esther Denham, niece of the wealthy Lady Denham of Sanditon, though she did not regret the lessons she’d learned along the way. Others did not need to know of her suffering during her humbling experience, it felt private to her. She was unable to act the way she had before but she refused to give insight into what had changed her.

She’d been playing with her hair the past couple of weeks, deliberating ways to do it. In the end she chose a loose updo with free curls tumbling around her face and from the pinned-up curls on the back of her head, it offered her a shield so she wouldn’t notice the looks of others from the side of her eye, and signified she was letting go of some of the severity she’d clung onto before. Babington was right, the wedding would be a small affair with only their closest acquaintances. It was time to let go of the past her who worried so much about the opinion of society and the perception others had of her. She was going to marry Lord Babington and she would do so as herself, and then she would be Lady Babington, protected by her husband’s reputation and status.

She allowed a servant to fetch Charlotte and Lady Susan, who quickly rushed to the room.

‘Oh, you look stunning’, Charlotte breathed as she entered the room.

‘I tried’, Esther replied as she moved her aunt’s crown a bit.

‘You succeeded dear’, Lady Susan confirmed as she walked towards the veil, gently brushing her fingers along it.

‘Do you have something borrowed?’ asked Charlotte.

‘I don’t know if my aunt’s crown counts. Is it still borrowing when it can’t be given back?’, she smiled.

‘I think that would count as something old’, Lady Susan laughed.

‘However, I don’t have a flower bouquet, but Lord Babington said I had to ask you’, Esther questioned.

Charlotte laughed.

‘Hm, well I do happen to have a beautiful bouquet, I could borrow it to you?’

Esther rolled her eyes. Of course they would find a lame way to make sure Esther wouldn’t have to borrow anything from someone. She didn’t have family members left to borrow something from, and they had just known she would feel awkward borrowing anything else.

‘How about something blue?’ Lady Susan asked.

‘I made a… I made a blue garter.’ Two, in fact, she’d grown quite crafty with a needle during her time alone.

‘Perfect, and the new thing is your dress?’

Esther nodded. It was gorgeous dress, with lots of frills and romantic details. It would have been a nightmare to wash, but she didn’t have to worry about that anymore. She could gawk at her dress and its beauty all day without having her adoration for it dulled by any practical thoughts.

‘Then we’re all set.’

Charlotte helped Esther to put on her veil as she talked of the wedding preparations of her and Sidney. The two were to marry on the same day as the Midsummer Ball a year ago. It was the day Sidney had been intending to propose to her before the new buildings had gone up in flames.

After the veil was pinned on in a satisfactory member, the bouquet was retrieved and Esther was guided through the impressive ancestral home to the antechamber of the family chapel. She’d last visited the place the previous day for a last talk with Bishop Babington – a cousin of Lord Babington – and to check on the floral arrangements. Each pillar had been wrapped in ivy and decorated by white and yellow flowers tumbling from a big bouquet. All benches were pushed together in the middle, so that it would be impossible to determine the amount of guests on the side of the bride. On the sides stood vases with flowers and small trees filling up the space. The chapel looked like it belonged to a long forgotten castle, overgrown with nature. It was perfect. Charlotte went to the chapel to check in on the proceedings, as Lady Susan remained behind to calm the bride.

‘How is it going to be?’ Esther asked softly. The older woman smiled.

‘I was nervous. Very much so. I only knew a third of all people in the church. I was horribly afraid to get the words wrong, or to trip over my skirts during the exit. But it turned out fine. You’ve rehearsed it. You know what to do. Nobody’s really paying attention anyway. It’s morning, everyone is still sleepy. You’ll get their attention the first couple of minutes because they’ll want to see you and your dress and then they’ll lean back and wait until the wedding is over so they can cheer and start drinking. They’re focussed on the fun part. It’s only right that you focus on what’s most important for you: your husband.’

Esther nodded, sufficiently calmed. The wedding was small, few were invited, and even fewer would attend since they had deliberately sent letters too late with an earlier date of dispatch so that the guests would not feel snubbed, yet wouldn’t be able to attend either. It soothed her nerves that those in attendance probably didn’t care too much about the wedding. She’d even heard some ladies complaining about attending ‘many dull long weddings’ during her months in London. She supposed a younger her would have been disappointed that the guests weren’t invested in the wedding she’d waited years for. She would have enjoyed a grand affair to celebrate her union, with other unmarried girls jealousy looking on as she got her happy ending with dashing Edward. Now she cared for none of it. She lacked the confidence and the interest. She just wanted to be married to him and have it over with, if she could, she’d have no one present except for the witnesses, but she knew that would cause a lot of rumours, even though they had been engaged for a decent amount of time.

‘They’re ready’, Charlotte announced.

The brunette floated towards the bundle of nerves clutching her bouquet with more power than was healthy for the fragile flowers, throwing her arms around her.

‘Good luck. Enjoy, it’ll be over in no time.’

Esther took a deep breath before nodding at Charlotte. The doors were opened and Lady Susan and Charlotte slipped past.

_Here we go._ She put a smile on her face and focussed on the figure at the other side of the short isle. He wasn’t quite standing at the end, though Sidney was.

Instead Babington awaited her a couple of steps before the altar, verifying whether she was fine, before walking to the end with her.

She’d spent months dreading the wedding, but the chapel might as well have been empty. She didn’t notice the others at all as the ceremony proceeded, and before she knew she was writing her name in the register, with Babington looking on with the happiest smile on his face. And then he wrote his name and the deal was sealed: no going back, they were wed. She had become his.

All the wrongs had been righted.

All pretence had been dropped.

All she felt shame for was officially in the past. A new chapter had begun in which she could love and grow in a safe and supportive environment.

She could barely believe that in less than a year her life had been so altered: her personality, her views, her living situation, who she loved and what she wanted out of life. Looking back on all the changes still made her a bit unsteady, but with her hand safely enveloped in his as they left the chapel, she was certain that she would find her footing again.

Lunch took place in a hall dating back to the thirteenth century, with old tapestries hanging off the magnificent woodwork walls. She’d known he was wealthy, and had known by his title that his family had to go back at least a couple of centuries, but she had never guessed his ancestral home would date back to the Tudor era, though it had only come into the Babington family some hundred years ago when there were no heirs on the other side of the family.

All pressure was on her to keep the relatively small but stunning home in their possession though, as he had no brothers or sisters. And the cousins he had who could inherit both had their own homes they would receive on the deaths of their fathers and the Babington Estate was one worth living in, instead of becoming something of a holiday home.

‘Dearest?’

Esther turned towards her husband.

‘I’d say now is an excellent time to inform the guests that they can all get on a carriage ride as we rest and prepare for our honeymoon.’

‘But we’re already packed.’

‘Only leaves one thing left to do.’

‘You are beyond redemption.’

‘You might think so now, Lady Babington, but you will soon find I have new tools to my arsenal which I can use to redeem myself.’

Her heart jumped, her mind having suspicions but no concrete ideas as to what these tools might be.

‘And how, pray, did you acquire them?’

‘By marrying you, you gave me the possibility to use them. Perhaps I could demonstrate them to you after our g-‘

‘Fine’, she breathed, her cheeks growing warm.

He laughed, laying his hand on top of hers. ‘Very well.’

‘My friends, I’ve planned a wonderful afternoon for you all!’ He announced as he rose.

She had not given any practical thought to her dress, this did not only extend to the washing of it, but the undressing as well. Filled with excitement, she had eagerly closed all buttons, not minding the struggle, but to get out of the beautiful dress was another thing. For starters she was unwilling to part with it, secondly she was tired, and thirdly the sight of all buttons on her arms and back discouraged her. But as she looked at herself in the mirror, contemplating just undoing her sleeves and pulling it over her head, she was disturbed by a knock on the door.

‘Enter.’

It was her husband, dressed fit for travel but still fashionable.

‘I have come to retrieve you, but I see you are not yet ready.’

‘Perhaps I’ll keep it on.’

‘For the road?’

‘For the road, for the week, who knows? It’s pretty, don’t you agree?’

‘I most certainly do. You had no idea what went through my mind when I first saw you this morning.’

She bit her lip, deciding that teasing him was still her favourite thing to do. ‘Indeed I don’t, tell me.’

‘They’re nor appropriate.’

‘Not even for a bedroom?’ Lord Babington eyed the room, growing a bit more awkward.

‘I thought we were going to drop all pretence. Won’t you trust me, your wife, with your thoughts? I would say I even have a right to them, since they concern me.’

‘I thought I’d gone to heaven’, he admitted softly as he pushed one of her loose curls behind her ear.

‘I thought I was the luckiest man on earth.’ He stroked the side of her head, hand gliding back and cupping her cheek.

‘I thought you were a goddess reincarnated.’ He reverently placed his lips against her. She sighed against them, blossoming underneath his touch.

‘I thought I wanted to have you right then and there, just run to you and take you in my arms’, he continued as he turned her back towards the mirror, his hands resting on her shoulders. She could see his head beside hers in the mirror. Their eyes connected and he smiled.

‘I thought that once I married you, I would be lost… Because I was certain that once I took a hold of you’, he breathed as his hands slid lower, brushing over her chest. She took in a sharp breath, her bosom instinctively bending forwards to get more contact. Yet lower his hands went, until they rested on her hips.

‘I would never want to leave our chambers again.’

‘And eschewing all responsibility?’ she questioned.

‘Oh yes.’

‘Refusing to meet all you friends.’

‘They know women, they’d understand the temptation of having one so dear so near.’

‘Why Lord Babington, how shameful. I said it before, you are foolish beyond redemption.’

‘Your fool now. And I can try to redeem myself every day for the rest of our lives. Starting now. Would you like me to help you undress?’

‘I shall allow it, so you can at least redeem yourself for today.’

He took his time redeeming himself, opening her buttons one by one as he let his fingers ghost across the expanse of her back while his lips mapped her neck. Edward had made her heart beat fast before, but nothing could ever compare to the delightful sensations of Babington’s touch. She felt lightheaded and dizzy already. Never before had someone elicited such feelings within her.

His hands finally found her wrists, making quick work of the buttons there, before the whole dress was slipped off of her body. Now his hands were on her everywhere.

‘Lady Babington, do you permit me to redeem myself further?’

‘But the guests?’

‘They shall be gone for a good time yet.’

‘Hmm.’

But then he bit down in her neck, and a ‘yes’ quickly fell from her lips.

Properly redeemed, Lord Babington helped his lady dress for travel. Their carriage was loaded as they awaited the return of their guests before departing on their honeymoon. They would visit Scotland, Spain, France and Greece, carefully avoiding Italy and Venice. She would not allow anything to ruin the new life she’d been given, especially no ghosts of the past.

This life was hers, and she would allow nothing to stand in the way of her happiness with Lord Babington after she’d denied herself it for so long.

When she’d lost everything, her love for him had been the only thing which still made her feel like a she wasn’t just an empty shell.

When she didn’t want to be seen, he still noticed her.

When all of society based her value on her money, he based her worth on her character.

And when everything in her life turned to ashes and dust, he found the embers between the ashes, and lovingly breathed new life into them.

And now the light in her eyes shone brightly, for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing an epilogue after all, hope you all enjoy.  
I thought they deserved a happy wedding after that tearful proposal :p


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